Today's guest blog is brought to you by Annick Rauch! Annick is the author of PheMOMenal Teacher and a passionate grade 1 French immersion teacher. This year, she is stepping away from the classroom to focus on her health as she fights breast cancer, which she shares about openly on Instagram in hopes of raising awareness and reminding others they are not alone.
Annick is also a proud mom of four energetic boys (plus a silver lab), a lover of camping trips and adventures with friends, and someone who makes space for movement through running and CrossFit. She continues to write at annickrauch.ca and invites you to follow along on Instagram @annickrauch.
Take it away, Annick!
Guest Blog by Annick
The other night, I was reminded, yet again, of the power of relationships.
My son Brecken’s former teacher, Mme Kaylena, sent me a message on Instagram. She’d been traveling this summer and visited a fish farm in Florida. Normally, she told me, fish “freak her out,” but this time was different. Why? Because she thought of Brecken.
You see, Brecken has a deep passion (obsession?) for fishing… so deep that Mme Kaylena introduced “Fish of the Day” into her classroom. Together, they explored different species, and his passion became part of the class culture. Anytime Brecken went fishing and I shared a photo, she would celebrate him. He felt seen, valued, and known.
So when she found herself face-to-face with fish on her summer vacation, she enjoyed it more than ever — because of him. She even impressed people around her with the right way to hold certain fish because of what she had learned from “Fish of the Day.” She laughed, saying they thought she was a fisher herself!
When I told Brecken, his face lit up. He immediately studied the photo she sent and declared, “Hmm, those look like tilapia. But… tilapia are from Florida. Is this a freshwater farm?” I was floored. Not only had he identified the fish, but he had also, in a matter of seconds, placed his teacher on the globe. Sure enough, she was in Florida. Take that, Jose Monkey! 🙂
Brecken felt proud. Mme Kaylena felt proud. And my teacher-heart melted. Because this is what it’s all about.
As another school year begins, I can’t help but think about how much this story reminds us of what really matters in education. Relationships don’t end when a student leaves our classroom; they ripple outward, touching lives in ways we may never fully see. Students shape us just as much as we shape them. Brecken’s passion for fish didn’t just deepen his own learning — it changed the way his teacher experienced her vacation, and somehow, it made her like fish. That’s the beauty of connection: it lingers, it surprises us, and it makes us better.
And it all starts with something so simple: the gift of being seen. When teachers lean into a child’s quirks and passions, we show them that who they are is valued. That kind of affirmation can light up a child’s world. It can also change the way we, as teachers, see the world around us.
Yes, the curriculum matters. But it will always be there waiting. What can’t wait is the work of connection. Those first days of school are precious — an opportunity to slow down, listen deeply, and build trust. Because when students know they are seen and cared for, the learning that follows will take root in ways that last far beyond the school year.
To Mme Kaylena: thank you for being the kind of teacher who not only teaches but sees. Thank you for leaning into Brecken’s passion and making him feel valued. You are exceptional, and we are so grateful.
This school year looks very different for me. I’m stepping away from the classroom as I navigate my breast cancer journey. But this story reminded me, in the most beautiful way, that once you’re a teacher, you’re always a teacher. My heart is still with the kids, with the colleagues, and with all of you who are beginning another school year.
So as you greet your new students, remember: the lessons they’ll carry longest aren’t always the ones in the curriculum. Sometimes, it’s “Fish of the Day.” Sometimes, it’s simply being known.
And that ripple lasts far beyond the classroom walls.
