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The Smell of Crayons – Introduction

by Diane Santorico

It was a good three months into the school year, November 2022. Two months earlier, I had seen the school buses driving their routes with rowdy kids at the windows. When walking the dogs I could hear the laughter on the school playground down the street. It had been almost a year since I’d left teaching, surely enough time to be over it. Over the angst, over the grief of my ending career, over the guilt of leaving. So I thought.

Then one day I went to the store to buy some crayons for a little project I was working on. As I walked down the aisle, I could smell them before I found them. Looking through the selection, I picked up a pack of 16 and just inhaled that familiar crayony scent. Immediately, I was transported back to the classroom. Back to the kids, the sounds of laughter and learning. Back to all of the wonderful things teaching is.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Someone asked if I was ok. A bit stunned, I looked around and realized I had been sobbing in the school supply section of my local CVS. I wasn’t over it.

I’m A Teacher

My first, full-time, very own classroom, teaching assignment was in the fall of 1994, yes, before Common Core and NCLB, dang, it was before we had internet in schools. Living in Seattle, Washington at the time and I found a wonderful position in a 5th-grade, self-contained classroom in Lynnwood, Wa. I wondered then about what my teaching career would look like; what kind of impact I would make. I wanted nothing more than to be in that classroom working with students, encouraging a love for learning, and a love of themselves.

I was so excited about the relationships I would make with colleagues, students, and their families. I wanted, as all teachers do, to make a positive difference in the lives of every child. Perhaps one day, I dreamed, I would end my career as a little, bitty-old-teacher lady, dancing at a big retirement party surrounded by students, friends, family, and colleagues. I imagined what stories past students would tell and how full my heart would be with the pride of seeing them all grown, happy, and successful. There would be a huge cake and retirement festivities. I would end my career with a sense of pride, and fulfillment for doing the “good work” through the tough times. 

Box of Crayons

Walking Away

Well, that was not how it ended. Not, even close. Indeed, I left without celebration before the year barely began, and officially resigned in December 2021. I left with feelings of incompetence, fierce anger, and deteriorating health. No party, no cake. I was 53, 10 years from full retirement benefits.

So what now? For now, I will take a deep breath and begin a frightening new journey toward…something. Something else that I can’t name now. I hope by writing this blog and reflecting on the crazy world of teaching public, elementary school, I will figure out just what that will be.

For now, I reflect on the 30 years I’ve spent within the four walls of different classrooms,  I hope to reignite some of the passion I felt for doing the “good work”, and tame the anger I still hold on to about how it all ended. Perhaps you may feel some connection to my experiences through these stories. If so, I hope to hear your story one day.

I still love the smell of crayons. 

Diane Santorico, M.Ed, NBCT

Diane Santorico
Diane has dedicated the last 30 years to working with students and teachers in public schools across the United States. She has taught in Arizona, Washington, Oklahoma, Mexico, and Colorado gaining meaningful knowledge about how different systems work across the country. She knew early on that she wanted to be working with young people and brought her passion for social justice and equality to every community she worked. Diane has worked exclusively in public schools, all elementary level. Most recently, she taught 4th grade in Denver. She resigned in December of 2021 but not before helping her students establish the first LGBTQ+ Group at an elementary school in the district. Currently living in Bozeman, MT with her wife Stephanie and two pups Watson and Koa, she is taking some time to transition into the next stage of her career, whatever that may be.

I’d love to hear from you! Please share your stories or comment on something that resonates with you. If you’re considering a career in teaching, I’d love to know your hopes and dreams for it. You can leave a comment or email me directly at [email protected].

8 thoughts on “The Smell of Crayons – Introduction”

  1. Thank you so much Keri! Your mentoring and friendship helped me be the best I could be. Your deep love for the work you do has always inspired me. I am forever thankful we had that time together. Hang in there and let’s keep chatting about what’s happening in Oklahoma. We need to continue to support each other and the others out there who are struggling to hang on.

  2. Thank you, my dear friend. You have no idea how much you helped me during our time together. Your beautiful, peaceful approach to children gave me hope and helped me get through some tough years. There are still so many teachers out there that have the passion and art to do it right but are being systematically pushed out by the broken system. You inspired me to look at life more carefully, slowly, and peacefully and I will always be grateful. The difficulty and pain of the last two years do not negate the beauty we created during our careers and I will forever be grateful for all I’ve learned from my colleagues, my mentors, my students, and their families. Now, we have to just figure out how to help repair this failing system.

  3. I write this as your teammate, your friend and mostly your student. During my first years of teaching you supported me in a way I hope for all new teachers. You were honest, real, and passionate about teaching. I remember standing at your door watching your classroom. The joy, connection, and beautiful since of belonging that you created for your kids was almost hard to believe and I caught myself thinking, how can I be more like her. Your love and support never faltered, you got me through days, months and years of teaching. As I got over the exhausting haze of my first few years I began to see the sickness in the system. Despite the system, your teaching career was incredible and you ARE INCREDIBLE. You changed my life and you are a huge part of who I am. You taught me about love, friendship, equality and so much more and I know for a fact that there are hundreds of students, teachers and families who would say the exact same things. This incredible impact that you made can’t stop the system from being broken but it also can’t be taken away from you. Your impact will continue to grow through everyone you have taught and will teach. I know whatever your next step is or wherever your life takes you, you will continue to teach what matters just like you taught me.

  4. Girl, yes! I feel you, feel this to my core!
    You are such a bright light in my life. Long talks after school. Ridiculously fun nights out. Week-long visits together. There is a you-sized piece of my heart that is full of love and light. I am just so glad your journey allowed us to cross paths and connect.
    I love that you are sharing your path this way, it will resonate with so many people. Your light continues to shine so brightly on all who meet you, and this will make sure it reaches more people! Yes, yes, yes, keep it up!

  5. The heart of a teacher never fades. Your students will always remember. You did the “”Good work”.

  6. I still have it. I always brought it to class and shared it with my kids 🙂 Thank you for all of your love and support!

  7. When we first bought you Where the Sidewalk Ends, we sensed your reading and writing ability.
    Your passion has always been the written word and teaching others the true joy of learning and the ability of distinguishing fact from fiction.
    In thirty years of teaching we know you have given that gift to many children.
    Your blog is so true to the amazing teacher you are. Keep writing our dear child. You are so talented and so loved

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