sometimes it comes back

Things you do, that is.

As some of you know, I was a teacher. 8th grade Language Arts. Nothing amazing, nothing special, just another teacher working the teaching gig...

It sucked. Well, I lie. Some of it sucked. Some of it was super rewarding. There's nothing like knowing you have an audience for at least 5 hours out of the day for your subject of choice.

When you see a student's mind just soaking up information or read something they wrote and know that you helped guide them to that exact point... it's wonderful.

There are some students that I won't forget. One girl in homeroom could never make it to school on time... chronically 5 minutes late... but a brilliant student. Another kid who was ADHD to the extreme but probably the smartest kid in the school--the only kid to score perfect on the quarterly exam.

I say all that to tell this. I never realized how much I may have changed them until today.

At the old school where I taught at (three year ago, let's not forget that) the assistant principal told my mothere that she got to work early to find a piece of paper stuck in the door with something writting on it. In typical teenage writing it said

'JOSH SHELTON RULES'

-it is what it is-

-joshua