A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

One of the fifth-grade boys in my class asked me if I could fix his backpack. His friend had grabbed the strap and pulled it completely out.

I figured one of his classmates had referred him to me. I had reattached the arm to her stuffed monkey earlier this year. I’m not sure how I ended up with that task.

Before I agreed to make the repair, I asked several questions. First, was there anything in his backpack that he needed? He assured me he had no homework to do. Since the next day was Field Day and a Friday, I figured he was being honest.

Then I asked if he had any food in there. I did not want anything to spill or spoil while it was in my possession. He assured me there was no food in his backpack.

Finally, I asked if there was anything living in his backpack. I once had a fifth-grade boy of my own who may or may not have brought living things home from school. He told me there was a duck in there but it was a toy duck. I told him that was good because I already had several ducks and did not want any more.

Once all those questions were answered, I agreed to fix his backpack.

It was a quick, simple job. It reminded me, though, that I am more than just a music teacher to some of these kids. That is ok. They are more than just students to me.