Kindhearted

Dedicated to my Grandparents, Connie and Sam Hale

My grandmother embodied everything the word grandma is meant to be. She was loving, kind, and always happy to see you. She believed her grandkids were capable of anything and applauded every effort. She wouldn't miss a play, a sporting event, a birthday, or anything you invited her to, saying "she wouldn't miss it for the world." She was the matriarch of our big family, a family of seven grandkids who grew up as siblings, alternating between their mothers', aunts', and grandparent's homes.

She could turn anything into a fun activity, including cleaning. Everything was a game or a craft or a party at grandma and grandpa's house. She had a room my grandpa nicknamed the Magic Room. It was full of Playmobil houses and figurines. It was filled with laughter and imagination. It was a place to play for hours with your cousins while your parents and aunts and uncles played cards or talked. It was a room where anything was possible.

There were only a few rules; everyone had to share, everyone had to be included, and everyone had to have fun. That last rule was more implied than spoken, but most of my memories at my grandparent's house were full of happiness.

I have carried the joy and love I felt at their house with me throughout my life.

My grandpa taught me to believe in myself, reminding me I was capable of anything I worked hard for and put my mind to. He taught me to find at least one good thing in each day, no matter how terrible it had been. And he taught me the value of being honest, even when it was hard.

My grandma taught me the most valuable lesson I've ever learned. To share and include everyone. This seemingly small lesson could change the world. If we all shared more, we could end poverty and open borders. If we all included everyone, we could erase the barriers between cultures and people and live as one beautiful human race together.

These simple lessons from my grandparents are what I think make me a great teacher. I listen to my students, so I can help them learn to believe in themselves. I believe that they are capable of their goals. I have them share and learn from one another. And most importantly, everyone has to be included in the classroom. If someone falls behind, I reach out to them. If someone has a question, I do my best to answer it and if I can't, I find someone who can. Students are encouraged to bring one another up, support one another, and never make fun of anyone for a mistake or seemingly silly question.

Every class I teach is built around the most valuable lesson my grandmother taught me. Everyone deserves to be included, no matter how old or young. Everyone can share more, and we are better for it.

My students talk about how much they enjoy my classes in their student evaluations each semester, saying how much they learned, how attentive I am to them, and how I got to know them, but most importantly, they talk about loving their group projects though they typically hate working in groups, how they met a few new friends, even when we had class fully online, and how they felt comfortable in the class. I take great pride in hearing these positive comments and knowing that I made a difference for them that semester.

All the good things I do in my classrooms and in the teacher trainings I lead, things that I did not learn through any of the courses I took for any of my degrees, I owe to these small concepts. Share and Include. Include and have fun. Enjoy one another. Grow together by being together. Look for the good in each moment, person, and activity.

Whenever life gets hard, I think about these two people. I look at their photo for hope, calm, and inspiration. I think of my grandpa when I doubt myself and remember his words. I think of my grandma every single day. Rain or shine, the image of her smile makes everything better. I'd give anything for another one of her hugs, the ones where you get lost in the warmth and nothing in the world matters.

My husband jokes about how seriously I take fairness. How I will count the ravioli on everyone's plate to make sure everyone got the same amount. About how I long for a world that is fair and kind. But I won't change. It's the piece of my grandma that lives on in me. It's the part of me I like most.

My grandma didn't even care if you were a part of the family. Every kid, even your friends from down the street, was welcome. My aunt Joanna carries this trait with her. Her house was always full of kids from down the street and is still full of toys and joy and laughter. Her own grandchildren love her for she loves them wholeheartedly as well. She reminds me in many small ways of my grandma, and it brings me joy to see her grandkids adore her the way we adored her mom, our grandmother.

My grandma was the first person to tell me she loved me no matter who I loved. When my family struggled to understand my sexuality and were hurtful about my girlfriend in high school, my grandmother took my hand and told me that she loved me no matter what and that we all could love whoever we wanted.

She would tell me frequently that she loved me with all her heart.

When I was in college, I invited my girlfriend at the time to dinner with my grandparents. I didn't bring her home to my parents. I wanted my grandparents to meet her. My little sister met her too on other occasions. But that dinner with my grandparents was so important to me. They were the only people in my family I let get to know the real me. They were the only ones I let see me because I knew they would still love and accept me. That dinner reminded me that everything would be okay. Regardless of if I ended up marrying a man or a woman. Ultimately, I met an amazing person who fully accepts me, and I married him. My grandma used to say that we made a good couple because we balanced each other out. One of the reasons I love him is because he is naturally kindhearted, just like my grandmother.

I strive to be that person for others. The person who accepts people for who they are. The person who cares, who tries, and who spreads joy and happiness. I try with all my heart to make sure everyone knows they matter. To make sure everyone feels included no matter how different they are from me. To make the world a little brighter like my grandparents did.

Without the kindness of my grandmother, I don't know where I'd be.

Though my grandma is no longer with us and a bright light in the universe has gone out, I see her smile in the surprise tulips that bloomed next to my garden. I see her laughter in the flutter of butterfly wings. I see her kindness all around me. I feel her love as tears flow down my face as I write this, for what is grief, if not love persevering?

I can only hope to be as loving and kind as she was.