It’s funny how now all of a sudden my old students love me. LOVE me. I see them in the hallways, during lunch, before and after school. They duck into my room whenever they can to say they miss me, give me hugs, tell me how much they don’t like their new teachers. I usually respond with, “I miss you too! Ok, now where are you supposed to be? Can I see a hall pass?”

I love seeing my old kids too – I would much rather teach them (I actually do have 6 of my former students in my classes, which is wonderful) than suffer through the first painful months without the advantage of close relationships with students.

I know I should be rooting for the new teachers at my school (and there are many, many of them! Basically less than a fourth of the teachers are returning this year), but a part of me is secretly happy that the kids come to me complaining about their new teachers. It means I get respect from kids and I don’t have to fight for it like I did last year. It means I’m one of the old faces, the one who knows how things were back in the old days.

This is only further proof of the fact that teachers who stay are the ones who make the biggest impact on their students.