Welcome to April
April is my favorite month of the year. Between birthdays and spring break and the excitement of what’s to come, this month has always had a very special place in my heart. Time seems to speed up and slow down all at once. Recesses somehow get longer, yet the days get shorter. You realize, a little too late, that time is a thief. The students you met at the beginning of the year no longer exist. Instead of being small, innocent kiddos, they’ve transformed into the scholars you’ve molded all year long. The structures you’ve worked so hard to put in place and reinforce are smooth and seamless. Your students “need” you less and less. It’s delightfully heartbreaking.
And while all of this quiet transformation is happening, April also brings a lot of “talk”. Contract negotiations are well underway, and teachers decide whether they’re staying put, switching grade levels, or saying farewell. Rumors can (and will) spread as long as people continue to add kindling. In my early years as an educator, I was easily swept into the nonsense of trying to “be in the know” to feel even a semblance of control over what lay ahead. That illusion was always quickly shattered because change is inevitable, and plans made in April are often laughed at in August.
All of the uncertainty and “talk” doesn’t just stay in the teacher’s lounge. Quick conversations before class turn into a game of telephone, and suddenly, information shared in confidence morphs into something that never existed in the first place. It can be a very dysregulating time for the grown-ups, which inevitably seeps into our students’ nervous systems, too.
I think it’s important to (re)name that our energy is palpable and shared. When we are grounded and calm in our bodies, even if it’s chaotic around us, our students can tell. They then feel safe enough to settle, which leads to a much more enjoyable learning environment. The opposite is also true- chaotic teacher energy equals triple chaotic student energy. There have been many moments when I’ve had to pause and reflect on the energy I was bringing to my students. Often, it wasn’t even mine—it was the residue of a frustrated colleague. Once I recognized that, I could pause, reframe, and re-engage as my authentic, calm, and sometimes silly self.
Somewhere within the end-of-year test prep, field trips, and planning for the next school year, the countdown to summer begins. Be careful of those who constantly bring up how few days are left in the school year- especially if the tone is exasperated and annoyed. It’s one thing to celebrate how far your students have come and to be excited for where they are going. It’s quite another to simply wish time away because it’s uncomfortable.
I recognize this pattern because I’ve lived it. I have always found it hard to remain present. My mind goes one million miles a minute, and my anxiety sometimes gets the best of me. One coping mechanism I learned in adolescence was to set a time limit for tasks or classes I did not enjoy. While helpful, it also led me to do the same thing with things I did enjoy, which then led to more anxiety as time was slipping away while I was enjoying myself. What I’ve learned is that wishing time away never really gets you anywhere, and you are always stuck in the same loop. It also usually ends in regret.
Do your best to stay present during the last few months of the school year. Protect your time and energy from those who are committed to nonsense. Focus on the reason you went into education in the first place- the KIDS! Meaningfully engage with your students and really focus on those one-on-one moments- they will slip through your fingers like water.
Summer will be here much faster than you realize. When it does, let yourself look back on this season—the giggles on the playground, the small victories during challenging lessons, the quiet moments reading together—with a full heart, not regret from wishing it away.
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Kell John
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Welcome to April
Kell's Classroom Collective
skool.com/kellsclassroom
A silly + serious collective for joyful teaching, curious lifelong learning, and heart-led equity—for everyone.
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