What I've learned

In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.
-Mother Teresa

Nicole was how I defined my success as a first year teacher. In your first year, you feel like you are failing every single day, and it sometimes can be difficult to find any tangible moments where you were successful; where something you did changed the trajectory of someone's life. Nicole was my one, tangible moment I could turn to to tell myself that I was successful. She was brilliant. She came into my class that way. She had an incredible gift with numbers, was a mature reader, but the most remarkable part about her was her humility. She was a social. The whole class loved her and got along with her, and she loved being with people. She was also a talented actress.

Everyday as a first year teacher, I would think how much of a dis-service I was doing her. She was well above most of my students, and though I thought of it often, I knew I wasn't challenging her in the way she needed to be challenged. When the Columbia applications came out, I was on top of it. This was one thing that I knew I could positively impact. I could change the trajectory of my kids by helping them get into a school that would challenge them. I helped all of my eligible students fill them out. I talked to parents. I took the applications to the school. A few of my students who applied were invited to take the Columbia test, and Nicole was one of them. The test was on a Saturday, and I remember that Friday checking in with all of my kids to make sure they were ready, going, etc. On Monday, when I asked them how it went, Nicole quietly told me she didn't go. I don't quite remember the reason why, but her family is incredible...so supportive and invested in their education, that the only thing I could think happened was a miscommunication about time or scheduling. Regardless, I called Columbia to tell them that Nicole needed to take the make-up. They said they didn't generally allow it, but that they were having the last make-up test that very day, and that they would make an exception for Nicole if she could go. I quickly called her parents, and we arranged for me to take her to the test. As the bell rang, Nicole and I jetted out the door to get on the M11 bus to Columbia. Lindsay Brown was on the bus with us, and on our way, we filled Nicole in on everything we knew about that test. She absorbed it like a sponge-as she did with everything she learned. She was quiet, eager, nervous. As we walked into Columbia, I gave her a hug goodbye and wished her luck, and left.

A few weeks later, her dad came by after school with the acceptance letter from Columbia- he wanted me to translate it to make sure she got in. As I read the letter by the front entrance, I was estatic. "You got in! You got in!" And I hugged them both.

Whenever I'd reflected on all of my failures as a first teacher, I had always been able to use that moment as a tangible example of a time I was able to positively influence the trajectory of a student's life. Now, I'm not so sure. Nature worked it's course and Nicole is no longer with us, just like that. Now, I know that while my actions at the time may have felt grand, great, life-changing, in actuality, we as humans are so so small, and many times we forget that.

One thing I can hold onto is that I poured myself into those kids my first year teaching. They were my babies, and I showered them with all of the love and attention and hard work I had in me. You never forget your kids from your first year teaching. They hold a special place in your heart. And Nicole will always hold a special place in mine. Goodnight, Nicole. I'll keep our memories safe.