By Vicki Bahr 
As I walked away from our oldest son Christopher sitting in the front row of his first-grade classroom, I remember worrying that he might think I was abandoning him because there was a new baby in our house, and I was too busy to want him at home anymore. His teacher let me cry when I explained it to her, standing right there in the hallway on the first day of school; she let me know it would all be okay.
This year, that little boy is helping his own son move two hours away from home into a college dorm while simultaneously trying to ease their younger daughter through the loss of her cohort big brother who often took her and her friends to the movies or to pick up Chinese food on a whim, and wondering how to prepare her for her own first days of uncertainty in high school.
We have two grandchildren moving into freshman college dorms and leaving little sisters behind to learn how to manage without them, three grandchildren maneuvering the ups and downs of high school life on their own, a seventh-grade, old soul who knows no enemies, a third-grade grandson who is in the exceptional spectrum and his twin 4-year-old little brothers who will attend preschool a couple of days a week in preparation for next year’s big move to kindergarten and their first separation from their twin.
And it’s the teachers who hold so many hearts in their hands, the teachers who will be there day in and day out not only to help their students learn the stuff of books but also how to maneuver the psychological ins and outs of growing up.
For every child, there is a story, there are siblings and parents and grandparents whose uncertain hearts are being stretched and jostled, circumstances that reach far beyond the classroom, and fears and doubts that haunt their hours.
Teachers are the ones who ensure all the little ones’ dreams are addressed while also holding their parents’ concerns uppermost in the equation and keeping the high hopes of grandparents in their plans as well.
We have a daughter who is a teacher, who juggles her own family right along with the worries and endless rethinking of how to best reach the minds and hearts of her seventh-grade students, adjusting lesson plans to accommodate a student’s particular thought processes, or a family’s tragic health news, making sure there is compensation for a new puppy who actually did eat the student’s homework, or for a parent’s difficult work schedule, or an absentee parent.
Teachers, as you start a new school year, thank you for being there for all of us, giving our children and grandchildren and us your very best selves with a little extra dose of patience and understanding and love . . . for the kids whose older siblings have moved on to their higher level pursuits, the parents who love them all, and the grandparents whose hearts are aching for their own children as well as standing on the sidelines cheering the youngest as they take their first excited but nervous steps into the world of education. You hold the future of the world in your hands, and all of our hearts right along with it.
by Kelsey Scism 
by Krystal Sieben 
