Dear Trinity,

My love affair with you began over 8 years ago when the teacher of my daughter’s 3 year old class said, “You should apply her to Trinity School. She is the perfect Trinity Child.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I thought it must be a compliment, so off I went to visit. I enjoyed the tour, but I respect an old building with cracks and crevices just as much as I like shiny and new. The 6th Grader that spoke was very impressive, but not necessarily relevant to my kids.  Our daughter was fortunate enough to get a spot and, over the the course of the year, a love was born. The next year my two other children became students, and I began teaching. Little did I know how much joy teaching in your halls would bring to me.

Trinity, you have brought such richness to my life that it is hard to put my feelings for you in words. I’ve made life-long friends, my kids have thrived, I have loved and adored hundreds of students, and we have all learned so much. But as I reflect I keep remembering what my child’s teacher said years ago about her being the perfect Trinity Child. The perfect Trinity Child? What is the perfect Trinity Child? Is it Caroline? What about Tommy? Or Hannah? And this, Trinity School, is where I find your soul. Because the answer is simple. Every child at Trinity is a perfect Trinity Child. You see each child as their own being. Some are full of imperfections, others have incredible wit, many have a bad case of the wiggles, and hundreds fill the rooms with giggles. Whatever their strength, challenge, or gift, you embrace it, appreciate it, and nurture it.

Students come and go. Teachers and staff come and go. Even administrators come and go. Some stay for a year, others for thirty. But the constant is your care, love, affection, and appreciation for all of us fortunate enough to spend time within your doors.  It is your soul. It is your spirit. It is what you are. So thank you, my dear Trinity. Thank you for nurturing my three children, all perfect in their own very different ways. Thank you for challenging, supporting, and appreciating my colleagues. Thank you for embracing me and giving me a place to reach, grow, and challenge myself. And, most importantly, a place to teach and love hundreds of amazing, wonderful, lovable, absolutely unique, adorable children. We tell our students when they leave that once a Trinity Child always a Trinity Child. I choose to believe once a Trinity Teacher always a Trinity Teacher. It’s been a wonderful ride, my friend. This teacher will miss you.

Learner, Thinker, Writer Suzanne Edwards serves the Trinity School Community as a 5th Grade Science Teacher.

At a dinner party recently our host asked, “What is your favorite movie scene?”   The question was a bit awkward to me. It seemed to force a conversation rather than letting one begin organically. But as we began to answer one by one, I noticed that we were each fascinated by the answers. Each person had their time to share and, more importantly, everyone listened. They really listened.

The evening continued with other questions. What is your least favorite song? Do you believe in ghosts? What is the craziest prank you’ve ever pulled? Nobody was trying to sound smart. Nobody was being smug or trying to impress. We just shared without pretense. The dinner was a great success, and we left with greater knowledge and understanding about our friends.

Last week I asked a student about his favorite song. He went into detail about his passion for theatre and then went on to talk about his family history. I didn’t pry. I didn’t force. I didn’t bombard him with questions. I simply opened the door for a conversation and then listened. Really listened.

Yes, we all have business to discuss. In school, we discuss curriculum. At home, we discuss our schedules. With friends, we get caught up on their latest plans. But this reminded me to open the door to other conversations as well. And then listen. Really listen.

What’s your favorite movie scene? A hint to mine is below.

www.leavemethewhite.com

Learner, Thinker, Writer:  Suzanne Edwards serves the Trinity School community as a 5th Grade Science Teacher.

Simple machines. Ick.  Shockingly, simple machines don’t excite me. Blasphemy for a science teacher to say, but to me they are just so……….simple.  And by simple I mean boring. I hide it well from my students, but it is true. Blah.

This week I’ve been surrounded by talk of simple machines through sharing ideas with a coworker and listening to my son fully immerse himself in a simple machine unit. Simple Machines are everywhere I turn and everywhere you look. It’s true. Yawn.

Give me the latest, greatest electronic device, a car that parks itself, or a robot that cooks. Now that’s exciting! With our world becoming increasingly complex, is it necessary to keep studying concepts that are so, well, simple? Aren’t we way passed simple machines in our modern, technologically savvy world?

Yesterday I came across a video of a Dad who solved the problem of the always-challenging-for-a-dad ponytail. He suctions his daughter’s hair into the hose of a vacuum and gets a perfect pony every time. Brilliant! Obvious. Simple. I recently saw a picture posted on FB of two quarreling kids sharing an oversized shirt. On the front of the shirt their mother wrote “our get along shirt.” Brilliant! Obvious. Simple.

Today I learned about an invention called LifeStraw. It’s a straw that filters water. You stick it in any river, lake, ocean, or pond and suck. Voila! Just like that clean water. Brilliant! Obvious. Simple. Approximately 700 million people do not have access to clean water. Could this be their simple solution?

Perhaps simple is good.

Perhaps simple is not so boring after all.

Photo courtesy Vestegaard Frandsen, Inc.

Learner, Thinker, Writer: Suzanne Edwards teaches 5th Grade Science at Trinity School.