This is an open love letter to the support staff of Warren Elementary School. I’m writing this for the people who sometimes get overlooked: the paraeducators, the one-to-one aides, the teacher aides, the special education staff, the lunch professionals, the custodians, and the administrators. Teachers, I see you too, but today, I want the spotlight on the village around you.
This past November, I worked for an entire month in the Warren Elementary cafeteria as an assistant lunch person. In just a couple of hours each day, I served over a hundred people (students, teachers, staff) and got to meet every single student in the school. What I witnessed during those lunch hours changed me. I watched paraeducators walk through the lunch line alongside their students, sit with them, guide them, encourage them. I saw the patience it takes to help a child navigate something as simple as eating lunch with their peers. That might not seem like much, but for some kids, it’s everything. These educators help children participate in community in ways they might not be able to at a school with a different culture. I saw hard days. I also saw breakthroughs. I saw growth happen in real time, right there in the lunchroom, and it was beautiful.
I also worked as a substitute teacher in various grades. Yes, being a substitute is exactly what you might imagine. The kids test you. But the paraeducators in the room didn’t just support their individual students. They stepped up, took on leadership, helped lead lessons I didn’t know, and reminded students of classroom expectations I couldn’t have known. That kind of dedication goes far beyond a job description. And many of Warren’s substitutes are retired educators who keep coming back because the connections they’ve built here are that strong. Warren Elementary isn’t a place people just pass through. It’s a place people return to.
My mom has been a teacher for more than 20 years across Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. I can say with certainty that there is something to be said for a school where the personnel give an extra part of themselves to create a safe and welcoming community. You cannot fake that. You can’t manufacture it with motivational posters or assemblies where someone tells kids how to behave. The people who create a real school culture are the boots on the ground. It takes literally every person in that building, and at Warren, every person shows up.
To the custodians: you know who you are. You were some of the most fun people I worked alongside, and you are genuine celebrities to the kids. The little ones in preschool absolutely idolize you, and watching that was one of the most heartwarming things I’ve ever seen.
To our head lunch technician: everyone knows who you are, and you are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. Thank you for everything you do.
And to our school administrator, I have to tell this story. Warren, like many Valley schools, only has a part-time nurse. That means some days no one is staffing the nurse’s office, and administrators step in on top of everything else. During my time as a lunch aide, I sliced deeply into my finger while cutting oranges. Our school administrator helped clean the wound and helped me determine whether I needed stitches, which I did. That’s how badass these people are. This is the same person who has to get up and unlock that front door roughly three thousand times a day, which might be the single most tedious task on earth. I see you, and I think you are fabulous.
I also want to mention KPAS. I work there three afternoons a week, and that role has given me both the time and the financial means to send my own son, a P4 student, to the program. It has allowed me to start my own business and dedicate more time to my adjunct instructor courses at UVM, which has made me feel more whole than I have in a long time. I was a full-time stay-at-home mom for years, and the transition back to professional life is no small thing.
Without knowing that my child’s needs are being deeply met by the staff, the special education team, and the support network at Warren, I don’t think I could have made that leap with a full heart. It’s hard to pull yourself away from your kid, even just for a few hours. Let’s be honest: I still think about him nonstop, because that’s what parents do. But knowing he is safe, supported, and thriving makes all the difference.
So here it is: you are all my valentines. Someone needs to say it out loud. Thank you. So much love is being sent from my family to all of yours. Keep up the good fight.
And to the school board, the superintendent, and the Department of Education: this is my experience and my truth. I can’t speak to every school in The Valley, because I haven’t lived inside them the way I’ve lived inside Warren. But I have to believe that one of the reasons we are all fighting so hard to keep our schools open is that this truth is shared and echoed throughout the Mad River Valley and across our school district. These communities are worth fighting for, because the people inside them are extraordinary.
With all my love and gratitude,
Shannon Dunfey Konvicka Warren, Vermont
