An Apology Letter to my Former Students

To My Former Students, 

First let me say, I loved being your teacher, I loved being in the classroom with you, I loved watching your light bulbs spark and I loved watching you grow and learn. BUT...I am sorry for not seeing you in the right light. I am sorry for taking away precious time from your childhood and filling it with developmentally inappropriate expectations that were placed on me to place on you. I see now the importance of unstructured play and so much more. I said I knew it then, but I didn’t really.

I’m sorry I presented you with what you should be interested in rather than asking what you are interested in. I’m sorry I cut you off when you had one more question about our lesson because the clock said we must move on to the next subject. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to answer all your questions. I told you there was no such thing as a silly question, but I wasn’t afforded the time or space to embrace your curiosity.

I am really sorry I had you monitoring your behavior in class in front of your peers. I hate that I asked you to move your clip to the red zone because you were talking when I was talking. I hate that you saw some friends get to choose from the prize bin every Friday while your points just didn’t add up yet again. I was taught this was supposed to help your behavior, but I see now it was only to help manage a classroom environment from erupting into inevitable chaos and place you in a mold that I shouldn’t have tried to make you fit into. 

I’m sorry I pulled you in from the playground in the middle of a game which I now see was a very important human skill being practiced. I’m sorry I tested your 5 year old brain on words I was told you were supposed to know before entering Kindergarten. I’m sorry I tested you on anything at all. Your intelligence shouldn’t have been measured by standards that an "expert" somewhere decided must be a baseline for children your age. You are an individual and should be treated as such. 

I’m sorry I made you sit still behind a desk or in a spot on the rug and silently walk down the hallway with your hands glued to your sides when your body yearned for movement and sensory input.

I’m sorry I pushed you to perfect your handwriting when I know now that squishing in the mud or building tiny fairy houses are far better ways to develop your fine motor skills. 

I’m sorry I urged you to color inside the lines. Maybe there will be a time when you must be inside the lines, but that time isn’t when you’re six years old. I wish I would have encouraged you to cultivate your shape and not fit into a box I needed to check.

I’m sorry I made you stay inside when it was raining. Outside time is so important, and we shouldn’t have missed out on all its benefits just because it was wet and somebody in charge somewhere decided it would be too much to deal with wet children in a dry classroom.

I’m sorry I snapped you out of a daydream while you were twirling in your pretty new dress, to bring you to a math lesson. Your daydreams are important. 

I’m sorry I simply did what I was told without questioning, modeling for you to do the same. 

I am sorry I didn’t know what I didn’t know and I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you.  My promise to you is that I take all the things I am apologizing for and make them right with all the children I am lucky enough to teach without using my degree and certification in teaching. It’s been a lot so far, including my own children, and I hope I am lucky enough that there will be many more. And I hope that with each child I encourage to be free to learn in their own way, that a piece of you will shine in them. The piece of you that had to be dimmed or trimmed, pulled or twisted, stretched or flattened to fit into a specific space. Those pieces I am sorry I didn’t let shine, I hope they shine bright enough in the world so more people see that those pieces are the best kind. The colorful, messy, creative, wrinkled, thoughtful, imaginative, jumbled, clever, unruly and beautiful pieces…those are what matter. And I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

Sincerely, 

Your Teacher Who Learned Better After Leaving the Classroom