An Open letter to my Class on my 28th Birthday.

Dear Class, 

It’s only been a week, but I am really missing you all. How will Johhny’s obsession looking for ‘snakes’ (worms) in the playground have developed? And is little Anna still refusing to eat her food at lunchtime? Does James still feel ‘ill’ during maths, and will Kamil be friends with Tahir now? Will Ziyaad begin to speak in full sentences, and will Alice finally share her toys with Jack? Does Sandy need behaviour interventions and should I move Kylie up a Reading Level? These are my first thoughts when I wake up. From the moment I wake up, my mind is thinking about your wellbeing, how I can make lessons fun for you, and what resources I need to prepare.

It feels strange waking up and not having to think about how I’m going to teach you adding today, and it certainly feels strange not having my dress tugged, my face turned forcibly for attention and (though I don’t miss this bit ), having to hold back a look of shock as I discover I have just hi5ed a wet hand!

 It also feels very very quiet! I haven’t had my name called, chirruped and yelled a 30 times in a row, “Miss Sheikh! Miss Sheikh! Miss Sheikh! Miss Sheikh!” until I turn around, raise an eyebrow at you and teach you about turn-taking, and then proceed to give you a talk on the meaning of ‘Patience.’ 

I definitely miss choosing a book, settling into a squashy chair, crossing my legs and reading a great story as you all look at me with awe and amazement. As you all fall backwards in ROARS of laughter when the word 'pants', or a dinosaur appears! 

 And so for that reason, I really am feeling the deafening silence. I actually have...silence! I can go about my daily chores and jobs without 20 odd 5 year olds running, crying or laughing at me for attention. I can drink a cup of water, instead of gulping it down because you fell off the chair and have bruised knobbly knees, and I can also go outside for some fresh air without having to crowd control 30 odd over-excited children who have squashed themselves against the door, fought and pulled each other in the time it took me to wear my coat!

It feels weird being able to have personal space. I have free space around me to move without having to peel off sticky hands from my leg or back! Oh, and I can also eat my lunch without having to remind you a few hundred times to ‘Wash your hands with soap and water! Don’t forget your thumb!’ I have had to teach myself to speak ‘normally’, and not slow down the articulation of my speech lest any adults think I’m being patronising.

Most of all, I am missing you today, because it is my birthday, and you would have all gone around the class, ‘whispering’ to one another “It’s Miss Sheikh’s birthday! It’s Miss Sheikh’s birthday!” And then you would have all come together during Snack Time, and sang me “Happy Birthday”, before proceeding to guess that I am maybe 17? (I wish!)

My Birthday wish as I blow out my candles is that you remain safe, happy and healthy. You’re too young to fully comprehend what is happening around the world right now, but you have enough capacity to understand that there are ‘bugs making lots of people poorly, and we are on extra School Holidays’, a concept you find exciting and thrilling! My Birthday wish as I close my eyes and smell melting wax, as I smell burning, as my family stand around me (2 metres apart), is that I get to see you, all of you after the ‘Special’ School Holidays.

*blows nose, throws in bin, washes hands multiple times.*

From Miss Sheikh.

*names are fictional, and all are hypothetical classroom situations.