Student Teaching Memories

I spent my semester of student teaching in a 95% White, high class, suburban elementary school. With SMARTboards and computers in every room and an iPAD cart, there was no lack of resources. However, I have never seen so many hurting, needy children as I did in my second grade class.
Let me remind you that the children in a second grade class are either seven or eight years old. There were students in my class who were anxious, clinically depressed, and severely overstimulated. No seven year old should be taking anti-depressants. I sadly heard the words, "I'm stupid. I never do anything right" from more than one of my students. No seven year old should believe that about themselves.
But what the perfect place for a Christian to be! To show these children the love that they clearly do not receive at home. To pat them on the back and ask about their day. To look them in the eye. To pull them into the hallway and let them cry about their feelings of stress, anxiety, and fear. To just listen to them, when it’s clear that their parents are far too busy.
I definitely feel like I was put in this class for a reason - a reason that goes far deeper than teaching the long E sound and how to use a ruler to measure. Every morning as I drank my coffee and prepared for the long day of teaching, I would pray for each student by name, knowing that most likely, I am one of the only people who are praying for them. For some of them, I am the only person to say, “You’re smart” and “You did well” and “You’re not a bad kid.” Every day I felt thoroughly used by God, and I am so thankful for this experience.