raegan levi

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raegan levi

raegan levi

@raeganlevi

nebraska wesleyan t&f| future educator|norwalk alumni

Lincoln, NE Katılım Nisan 2018
228 Takip Edilen153 Takipçiler
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Nebraska Wesleyan Track & Field/XC
Huge day for Chloe Mooberry, she goes over the 18ft barrier for the first time and jumps 5.71m (18’8.5)! That puts her 3rd on the all time charts and 8th in the nation! #nwutf #pwolfnation
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Travis Akers 🇺🇸
Travis Akers 🇺🇸@travisakers·
A message from a Kindergarten teacher: After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old: “My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.” No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.” My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me. When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic. But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe. My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown. And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice. They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer. The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.” As if kindness were a weakness. Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure — a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.” a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.” a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.” Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up. But this last year broke something in me. The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival. I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times. So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998: “Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.” I sat on the floor and cried. No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications. I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced. I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers. So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try. Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.
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Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift@taylorswift13·
Tonight all these lives converge here The mosaics of laughter and cocktails of tears Where fraternal souls sing identical things And it’s beautiful It’s rapturous. It is frightening. ——— I can’t tell you how proud I am to share this with you, an album that just feels so right. A forever thank you goes out to my mentors and friends Max and Shellback for helping me paint this self portrait. If you thought the big show was wild, perhaps you should come and take a look behind the curtain... The Life of a Showgirl is out now. taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaSh… Album Producers: Max Martin, Shellback and Taylor Swift 📸: Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott
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Derrick McKenzie
Derrick McKenzie@Dmac_NWU·
Updated boards…what is the next one to go down?
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Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift@taylorswift13·
And, baby, that’s show business for you. New album The Life of a Showgirl. Out October 3  ❤️‍🔥 taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaSh… Album Producers: Max Martin, Shellback and Taylor Swift 📸: Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott
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Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift@taylorswift13·
You belong with me. 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤 Letter on my site :)
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