I am supposed to make a difference. I am supposed to inspire.

But hope.
Hope does not come cheaply, though it has no value.
A priceless heirloom handed down from one kin to the next.
So I survive.
I thrive.
I have reached a student I have shown a light I have made my way and said I do not conform because that is the way to the grave I will not capitulate to meet ends and I have instilled in my class a sense of individuality and honor in uniquety and that isn’t a word but the meaning is clear.

We have always prevailed.
We have always carried on.
And despite the negativity and press surrounding doubt and the profession,
I am good at what I do and so are you and we will continue because we have an obligation.
To the future, not the present. That is fleeting.

We teach children not robots.
And when I look out at a faculty I see a sea of seeds. Of hope.
Of change.
Of that future unfolding.
The same way to you as you do to me.

so DO.
Make me believe.
And the youth will see there is more to be than ever can we.
Make them free.

Synonyms for teaching.


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