~a letter to the children, please remember me~

My fifth grade classroom at Liberty Elementary School here in Ponca City, Oklahoma is a classroom community.  We will no longer be able to return to school together this year, but that doesn't change who we are together.  Even if school is conducted in a different manner that is totally different from what we were used to before the arrival of the virus, until the last day of school and beyond, they will always be my fifth graders.  In our room we have had what I like to call a "community rock jar".  To some it might look like an old mason jar and a pile of beautifully colored and patterned rocks.  But to the students in my room, it represents who we are as well as our class solidarity.  To join the rock jar community is quite simple.  The first thing is to say your name and then to tell the group something you are good at but it cannot have anything to do with school.  Then the next step is to place the rock carefully into the jar because throwing the rock in could break the glass.  We kind of liken that to hurting our feelings, something that we tried to avoid at all costs.  Every time a grown up might come in for a visit, we offered them the once in a lifetime opportunity to join us as a part of our classroom rock jar community.  We are so thankful for all of the ones who did.  This is my final class.  After 40 years, I am retiring.  I decided to do something with the rocks today as we worked around the garden at home.  This is my letter to the children of my class.  As a side note....for some reason on the last day of school that we were together, I strayed far away from my lesson plans.  I had no idea why I was doing that, but it just felt good to allow the kids the time to do different things, those things we never seem to have the available time for.  We had fun and laughed with one another.  There was partner reading, some free drawing, a fun painting time, working on math on dry erase boards, and visiting with friends.  I am so thankful that my memory of our last day together at school is one of happiness.  I think God knew that it was the best plan.  I miss my children and the letter that follows is theirs.

~a letter to my children~

Dear 5th graders,

The first week has come and gone now since we should have been back together once again in our classroom at Liberty Elementary School. Things changed after we all said good-bye on Thursday, the 12th day of March.  Life became different for us and the world today doesn't look like the one we knew only two weeks ago.  I'm sorry that we can't see each other right now.  What I wouldn't give for a huge hug from each you.  Do me a favor?  Please save one for me for the time that we will surely be together again in the future.  It will happen, you know?

For some reason on that final day I was at school, I made the last minute decision to bring home the community rock jar and the acts of kindness marble jar.  At the time, I had no real reason to, but something just told me that it was the perfect moment to take them with me, and so I did.  Since that time the classroom community rock jar has been on my desk here at home, a visual reminder of the solidarity we had together as a group of friends and learners of life's lessons.  Every morning as I looked at it, I have felt a tug at my heart because I have missed you.  I know that our last few weeks together will never be the same again, but you know what?

It's gonna be ok.

Do you remember that I always told you that the time would come in the future when I wouldn't always be there for you?  You kids got me as your teacher at the very end of my career and I am older now.  I won't be able to stay forever.  I told you all to stick together and to be there for one another throughout the rest of the school years that remain for you.  5th grade will have come and gone but this is NOT the end of your school times.  There are plenty of years ahead for everyone, years that will enable you to make happy memories with friends, old and new.  I want that for you!  You deserve the best and I pray you will always receive it.

So I have to tell you about the rock jar.  Today I took it outside where Mr. Renfro was working in the yard.  I told him of the plan that I had, one that actually involved you guys.  Here I am, looking a little bit windblown as I stood for the picture.

I decided that it's time to take the rocks from the rock jar and place them into a permanent spot that I will see every single day.  When I see them, I will always be remembering of you. 

Mr. Renfro and I are making a brand new flower bed here at home in Newkirk.  Instead of spending a lot of money on buying new plants and flowers, we are trying hard to use what we have on hand.  I dug up 6 roses from another flower bed on the side of the house and transplanted them into the new one.  I divided out all the rocks of the community rock jar and placed them along the base of the plant to give it some extra support until it can take off and thrive on its own.  There are six of you right there!  Do you see your rock perhaps?

I loved teaching you about comparing and contrasting things, and as I worked with the roses, I couldn't help but to think how they are kind of like us.  You and me.  When we started 5th grade together, I was so afraid.  I'd never taught that grade level before in my entire life.  How on earth was I going to manage?  Could I ever figure out 5th grade math or science?  What if you didn't like me?  What if I messed up and made mistakes?  You walked in that first day, and perhaps you felt the same.  You had never been fifth graders before either, and this world was brand new for you as well.  Did you ever feel afraid at first?

But you know what?  Here's how I see it.  Like the rocks from the community rock jar are now propping up that fragile rose bush that was just transplanted on one of the windiest days this week, you and I propped one another up all year long in our classroom.  If I made a mistake, and by the way there were plenty, you didn't laugh at me for doing something the wrong way.  If a friend was having a bad day, another friend would pick up the slack and help out.  If someone was struggling with reading, it didn't take long for another 5th grader to step in and lend a hand.  We congratulated one another on our successes and sometimes had to get on to one another when we knew we could have done better.  As a fifth grade class, we might have only had 3/4 of a year together in our classroom, but boy did we ever pack a whole bunch of learning into that time that was cut short by the virus.  

For that I am grateful.

You were my final class.  Never again will I collect beautiful rocks to make a community rock jar.  I am sad about that and my heart hurts because of it.  But actually as I come to think of it, my heartache comes from the fact that I had the wonderful chance, the greatest of blessings to be your teacher this year.  The painful feeling is more than worth it because at least it shows that once along life's way, we were together as a classroom community.  

What a loss it would have been to have never had the chance to know you, to love you, and to be your teacher.  Thank you for such nice memories and I will never forget you.  Please remember me.

Love always,
Mrs. Renfro

Our classroom friend, PCPS Superintendent Shelley Arrott, was the first adult to join our rock jar community.  

Our principal. Lori Cox, joined us shortly afterward.

Both women supported us throughout the year.  We knew that they would help us in any way the could.  In turn, the kids and I would do the same for them.

Thank you ladies, for everything!