My son is stretched out next to me watching a lesson his English teacher recorded on an introduction to poetry.

It’s all comforting somehow. A cold, windy morning outside. A teacher’s familiar voice. A lesson opening kids’ minds to something new.

1/3

I’m sitting here listening along while pretending not to. I was an English major myself. It’s all just warming my heart a bit.

The teacher is making it so approachable. Personalizing the subject. Pulling the kids in.

2/3

My son just broke in to say “I miss school...”

He loves being home.

But such is the gift of good teachers.

I owe this teacher a note to tell him all of this.

3/3