Teaching is hard.  It's not work for the faint of heart.  It's a marathon, not a sprint.  

Research shows that November and December are tough months for teachers.  The newness of the school year has worn off. The sun shines less, but the days seem longer, and we gasp for air as we are pulled beneath the waters of busyness and exhaustion.  

It can be too easy to give up and accept mediocrity.  After twenty-seven years of teaching I have felt these feelings numerous times, but whenever I am in the presence of children my hope is restored.  I am reminded of my calling and of the resilience that comes with persistence. 

A few weeks ago, I was working with a kindergarten student when out of nowhere, he looked at me and said, "You stink!"  

I thought I had heard incorrectly.  I lowered my head to my chest and sniffed.  I knew that I'd showered that morning, and I was confused.  Finally, it came to me. 

I said, "Do you mean my breath? My breath stinks?"  

He nonchalantly answered, "Yes."  Out of the mouths of babes!

That was an easy fix.  I popped some gum into my mouth, and the problem was solved.  However, as I began to reflect, I thought to myself how negative I'd allowed myself to become in recent weeks. I had to sadly admit that my teaching had begun to stink a little, as well, and that was a much harder stench to get rid of, but I knew that I must make it happen.

After a lot of soul searching, a few tears, and the good listening skills of some colleagues, the putrid smell of discouragement is fading, and I feel refreshed once more.  I can see clearly again the reason I became a teacher...to change lives.

Ours is a noble profession.  We are touching the future one child at a time.  During my low times, I like to remember how I felt the first day of the first year of my teaching career.  I remember the butterflies in my stomach, picking out my clothes with great care, and not being able to sleep the night before.  I loved teaching then, and I love it still.  

The burdens of the job can easily bury our passion and distract our view from the joy of children, but we mustn't forget what is at stake.  The kids we teach today need us just as much as the kids I taught twenty-seven years ago, and many of them need us more.  It is for them that we must clean off our dusty hearts and face another day in the political classroom.  They are worth it, and we must let them know that we did the best we could, and when we knew better, we did better.