Dear Ms. Bittel

I wish I could share the originals in person with you all as they are a little hard to read online. Here’s the text for each of the three pieces in order!

1.

You can tell in the way that Ms. Bittel floats through her classroom, 

noticing and reacting without skipping a beat

that every move she makes holds intention.

The lights turn off

cueing to the students that it is time for quiet voices. 

With the sound of a chime 

each student recedes to their own space around the room. 

To the untrained eye it seems effortless

all 11 learners working at their pace, finding their own rhythm of learning 

and feeding off the hum of focus 

that resonates in every corner. 

Yet to us, nestled between desks, reading over shoulders, 

we see the hard work, dedication and strength each student contributes. 

Furrowed brows, tapping feet, writing, erasing, re-writing. 

I watch how whispered comments, smiles, redirections

like wind across seemingly still water

are enough to make movement 

yet not enough to disturb the calm of learning and focus. 

I learned that our job as teachers is to create that magic atmosphere

to honor the hard work students do 

with patience, hours of preparation and constant flexibility. 

It is in those quiet moments that we teach, build connections and grow.

 

2:

The heart of the classroom is the kindness wall. 

Layers of post-its curl up from the wall like weathered tree bark. 

Scrawled on each is a noticing of an act of kindness witnessed during school. 

Kindness is a practice, like yoga or meditation. 

Something you train yourself to notice, appreciate, inhale. 

Something you create, share, exhale. 

It is woven carefully in the very fabric of the school day. 

Just like the students I began to notice kindnesses. 

There is  kindness in every gentle reminder, every respectful redirection. 

Making time to greet each child when they come in and hug them when they leave, answer their questions, learn their siblings’ names,

talk through their fears or anxieties and adapt to their needs 

isn’t  just good teaching, 

it is an act of kindness. 

There is kindness in each handwritten comment on the corner of a paper 

and every genuinely excited response to a child’s piece of finished work.

 

Once I was trained to really look, I could see the profound kindness in the way that Ms. Bittel expected each child to work their hardest 

and was there, consistently, 

to celebrate their successes or support them through their struggles. 

3:

Dear Ms. Bittel, 

I remember one day that you told me you realized you loved taking care of plants and watching them grow. It was during a prep period and there was that vibrant quiet in the room that I think every teacher learns to soak in. 

I remember being so aware of the life in your classroom. In the morning stillness or in the joyous chaos of the school day the room itself was full of air and light. It was full of growing. 

It wasn’t until I was leaving after my last day that I realized how much I had been growing all semester in that space. You always said that I would be a great teacher and after a while I started to believe it. I don’t know how many people in my life have expected that level of greatness from me and yet that is the standard you hold all of your students to. Thank you for being the person in my corner. Thank you for being my teacher.