I touch my students.
I love them dearly, and I hug them. I kiss them. I have them sit on my lap. With their consent. I pinch their cheeks. And I even massage their weary hands after a long test when they complain that their hands hurt.
The love is pretty mutual and I know I’ve built my students and they love school for it. They know that their teacher loves them and they want to impress her. Class is fun because of it. They all can’t wait for the last day of school when they’ll each have their private time with me and I’ll tell them how special they are and how much they mean to me and how to always believe that they can do it. I think that that’s more important than almost anything in the world. These are Yiddishe kids that we’re talking about, and I don’t care what this sick world has come to- what does a sheigetz’s ideas have to do with me??? I have one mission: to build my students. I won’t let the depravity of the outside world enter my pure, holy, homey classroom.