TEARS

“I know I told you I would tell Miss Sayer this, but I forgot to this morning,” my mentor said before we released our children to continue writing their historical fiction pieces. “While you were at training yesterday, you wouldn’t have even recognized some of these kids. They blew everyone out of the water with how much they wrote!”

He had assured the other students that everyone had really excelled the previous day, but these particular students he had been referencing had been permanent residents on the Struggle Bus in writing all year long, and something magical happened yesterday. They had planned their entire short story with character charts scene list and had written an entire page of a short story, all in one day.

As it turns out, the students were amped to work really hard today again. They continually came up to me, asking me to read parts of their stories and checking to ensure they were using figurative language and strong words correctly. By the end of the class, students were asking to take their stories home over the weekend to work on and were panicked when I insinuated that we might possibly move on during Writing on Monday.

I stood up to compliment the students at the end of the class session, and I could feel myself getting too proud of my students. My eyes were not watering, but I was on the verge of bursting into tears out of pride. They have come so far this year, and I can’t wait to see how much more we can accomplish this year.

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