Mom.

My mom turns 1,000,00 years old today or, well, 58 and I love her.  So I’m going gush for a moment.

She teaches in the ghetto at a school that she voluntarily transfered to 5 years (about) ago.  When this school was restructured they put out a call to all the teachers in the district.  She was the only one who transfered.

She teaches seven grade math which I truly believe is the hardest of the middle school maths to the lowest kids at her school and they love her/ respect her/ want to make her happy.  I have NEVER met a teacher with classroom management like my mother.

She works insane hours like 6am-6pm almost everyday.  She makes testing schedules, master schedules, and invents things like academic detention.  She writes reference letters for former students and edits papers for her children.

She is the kind of person who invites friends of friends we’ve never met to our holiday meals because she truely believes the more the merrier.

She never once gave up on or gave in to me through the many years of me being a terror of a child.

She makes me prove it.  She doesn’t just believe things that I say she challenges me to be better, smarter and to back up my claims.

She loves me and supports me and helps me to be a better teacher.  She is probably the main reason I am a teacher.

Occasionally, I may write something here that paints her in a less than positive light, but in fact she is beyond stellar.

And although I am in many many ways like my father;  in truth I am often striving to be somewhere near as impressive as my mother.

Happy Birthday Mom.  You’re the best.

Me as baby, Mom rocking the yellow shorts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my high school graduation, Mom rocking the pucca shells.

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