There is a certain sense of wonder a teacher feels walking into an empty classroom. No paper on the walls. No color other than the shades of beige layered upon one another.
Standing in the middle of the room, the whispers of past conversations float in the musty air. That room has been the “home base” for students of all backgrounds and walks of life. It has been the room where students fell in love with subjects and ideas that would carry them into their futures. It has been the room where students have been disappointed and terrified to fail. It has seen tragedy and heartache; joy and love. Every classroom has a voice.
This year, my classroom speaks in bright colors. Blues and yellows and pinks, bordered in black and white animal prints and polka-dots. They match the feeling that I want to have beginning this new adventure in Middle School.