Before I went on medical leave and ultimately had to resign from my middle school teaching job due to disability, I taught high school and middle school kids for a total of ten years or so. Sadly, the fibromyalgia has taken away most of their names from my memory and even some classes and such, but I remember so many of them. I easily taught around two thousand students in those years, but I stay in touch with several even years later on Facebook and Twitter. Great kids who have grown up and moved on with their lives.
They're still my students, though, and I still worry about them. I have a pair of former students, married parents of one and one on the way, and I had to break out the knitting needles yesterday when I read that she is having some troubles with the pregnancy. Didn't even stop to think much beyond what colors I know both like and what I had in the yarn stash and then look through some baby sweater patterns I have on hand.
In explaining it to my husband last night as I was trying to at least finish the hood on the top-down sweater before going to bed, I found myself thinking that people outside of education might think it odd. I haven't taught them in 7 years, haven't seen them in real life outside of social media online, but they're still my students even after all this. Thankfully, my husband didn't even question it (he's awesome that way).
See, we don't teach machines or widgets in some factory. We teach people, and those people touch our lives as much or even more than we touch theirs. They take over huge areas in our hearts, and even after graduation, we find ourselves as teachers wondering how they're doing, what they're doing now, hoping they're okay. I've talked with teachers about former students and shared what I have heard, and they have told me of family members and the latest news. I have never known a teacher not to worry over former students, be proud of them for every achievement, and cry over them when they die (yes, we do keep track of that, too).
So, I'm still knitting on this baby sweater in hopes that it will fit okay and let that little baby know that his mom's teacher cares about him, too, even if I won't ever get the chance to have him in a classroom.
