Embrace the Weakness

Like almost everything that gets a lot of media attention, nearly everything you’ve heard about teaching is somewhat true.  Kids are tested into oblivion, and these results are all that matter to administration and the government when determining teacher success. Teachers are being stripped of their autonomy and ability to create their own lessons and assessments.  Teacher dissatisfaction is at an all-time high. Retention rates for teachers is deplorable. There are many failing students in poverty. Teach for America and similar programs inform us that anyone who has a good intention can be a teacher.  No one wants any children left behind, and all of us wish to “Race for the Top.”  The devil is in the details-as always. I teach kids of all sorts: poor, rich, white, brown, black, and green (not really-but that would be fine with me).  I teach kids whose parents love and support them and kids whose home lives have brought me to tears. Despite all of these things, the fact that people believe my job is easy-so easy anyone could do it, and the fact that people believe my job is  impossible-so difficult no one could do it-the truth is, it is both.

For six hours of my day, I am in my beloved room C-203 with 150 people all 18 and under.  Some days, they do not want to be in this room.  Some of them struggle because they are hungry, tired from working, bored, worried about something else-the list goes on and on. Believe it or not, there are days when I feel the same way.  My dad is sick and my mom is worried and my sister sent her oldest to the army and my son moved out of my house and my daughter is 15 (that is enough) and some days these things are on my mind.  But, when I get to this room, I take a breath, and sit and think about what we can do today.  I plan and I prep and worry and I pray A LOT!  As the students arrive, I smile and hug and cheer-even if I’m not up for it.  As soon as the bell rings, I am on, and it is a battle for their future, and as long as we believe it, we can make something happen.  It might not be what I thought would happen, it might not be magical or great, but we spend six hours every day attempting to do something great.

I want to tell you a teaching secret, and I hope I don’t get kicked out of the super-secret teacher club for telling you this.  Every single teacher I know worries that we don’t do enough.  Every single day we agonize over our effectiveness.  At the end of every lesson I can tell you a minimum of five things I wish I would have done differently-three kids I should have done more for-17 ways I could have done more to help my people. We teacher people do this on our own, every single day.

I had the privilege of sitting down to talk-really talk-with one of my students for her final English project.  I was humbled she chose me as a person who made a difference in her educational journey. We were talking, laughing, and crying together.  It was wonderful. She is going away to New York for school-truly chasing her dream-and I admire her so very much. It is not surprising I love her so because my daughter, whom I adore, isn’t afraid to dream bigger than our hearts can hold. At the end of the interview, I got the chance to ask her a question.  I asked her if there was any wisdom she would like me to know.  She was talking about my daughter chasing her dream, and about how impossible it is, and she said, “She knows. No one needs to tell her, she knows every single time how hard it is.”  I have thought about this talk so many times.  It was one of the most significant things I have been a part of. 

This Friday, I cried at work. A lot. Because someone (a non-teacher) decided to criticize my work. The suggestion was made that the work I do with my team is not challenging enough for my students or does not “prepare them well enough for the test.” Normally, this stuff rolls right off my back. Okay, say what you want, my results can speak for themselves.  Although statistics do support my teaching, that argument was nullified by the critics deciding that my high school has easier students to work with than the other high school in the area. I cried so much about this one little critic.
 

Why?  What in the world got into me that I let this affect me so much?  It’s not like this is the only person to criticize me and my unconventional teaching methods.  I mean, if you walk in my room, and have no idea what is going on, it might look like the crazy bus. I've had so many people support me and love me and compliment me-the fact that this one little thing broke me down so much is ridiculous.  Finally, a friend and mentor came to talk to me.  He said, “I think you are taking this way to personally.”  WOW! He was right.  Because in my teacher heart-like every other teacher I know-I fear that I will never get it right.  My fears were articulated: I will fail my students. I won’t have time to do what I need to do for them.  Someday, they will hurt because I didn't do enough.  This one little criticism hit me where it hurt the most.  Because just like my students who don’t need to be reminded that it’s tough, or that they might not make it, I know. I know how hard it is, and I know where I fail. I’m sorry that I let this get to me so much, I am blessed my team literally encircled me with love and support and I’m moving on.

The reason so many teachers take all of the “rumors” about education so personally, is because it IS PERSONAL. Our hearts and our brains and our bodies are in it to win it.  And we go in knowing that we won’t win some of the time.  We know how hard it is, and we love it anyway.  If you get the chance to break someone down, don’t do it.  They know. Instead, spend your time building someone up.  They probably don’t know. I just want to thank all of my people for allowing me my tears, giving me some tough love, and allowing me the grace to climb back in my crazy bus and try today. I am blessed. Have a wonderful week.