They ran to me

Yesterday, I had taken the entire day off. The first half was to take my school choir along with the 5th graders to rehearse their graduation that's coming up in a couple of weeks. We were at our district's Performing Arts Center (PAC) for a little over 2 hours. We just went, rehearsed the graduation procedures and logistics, and returned to school.

That was the 1st half of the day. (When you're a teacher, you take a full day or half a day off.)

The 2nd half of the day I had elected to use for professional development purposes. I wanted to observe another elementary music teacher in my district teach. I chose to observe my friend S who watched my Kodály teaching videos prior to submitting them for certification. By the time I arrived at her school, I had walked in about half way through a 1st grade lesson that was doing kinesthetic activities to teach the quarter note rest. Anyway, once the class was over, I looked at the time and realized I had more time to observe other teachers. I thought, Where can I go to observe another teacher who's really close by? And then it hit me. I went to the new elementary school that opened up this year, the one to which I lost a good chunk of students. My former principal is also there.

So, I went to the new school, and of course, the music teacher, M, was finished with her day. She had a meeting at the end with the principal and assistant principal to discuss what the "specials" team (PE, Art, and Music teachers) were teaching in class. Since they had a meeting, I figured I'd just pop in a few classrooms of former colleagues that were at my school the previous year. This new school is a 2-story school with Kinder, 1st, and 2nd on the bottom floor, and 3rd, 4th, and 5th on the top.

As I walked around the school, there were a few kids, former students, who saw me and called my name attempting to confirm that it was indeed me. I acknowledged them in passing, gave them some hugs, asked how they were doing, explained my presence on campus, and let them get back to their class.

But in the 5th grade hallway, while looking through 1 classroom door window, through my peripheral vision, I saw a kid come out of a classroom down the hall. When I looked over, reacting to what my eye picked up, the next thing I heard was this student yelling in sheer excitement, "It's Mr. Hickey! It's Mr. Hickey!" After that, a line of students, about 5-6 kids, ran to me.

They...ran...to me.

I hugged who I could. They told me how much they missed me, how much fun they remember they had in my music class, that I made it so much fun for them. It was a truly special moment in my heart. I felt so incredibly humbled and undeserving. It made me realize...

I made a difference in these kids' lives. I was...am...important to them. 

They ran to me.

"You were the best music teacher ever!" they continued.
"We miss you so much!" others told me.
"I've missed y'all too!" I replied.

A particularly fun(ny) moment was when a few of the 5th graders were explaining to other students who I was since I hadn't taught them, and how I was the "best music teacher". To my former students, I was this long-lost friend. To others, I was a total stranger that evoked a strong emotional reaction from their peers.

Of course, seeing these former students an entire year later, they had gotten taller, boys' voices had gotten deeper, some really skinny kids had filled out more, they were growing.

But that moment is burned into my mind now. They ran to me. You can't buy moments like that, unless it's written in a script, made into a movie, and purchased upon its release on DVD.

This is among the many reasons teachers do what we do. We may be underpaid for everything we do, but the rewards we reap are priceless.

And I will forever remember this moment. I'll miss those kids so much. I only wish them the best.