I'm told every teacher has one of those years. A year like I just finished. Its a year that makes you reconsider your profession. A group of kids whose chemistry mixes with yours in such a way you want to run screaming from the classroom and hide in the hills. Its the kind of year that makes you question yourself as an educator and wonder what exactly you could have been thinking to begin such a path in the first place. This powerful year erases all the beautiful moments of learning and laughing that came before and leaves you struggling to get out bed each morning. Yeah, it was that kind of year.
The kids in my class needed absolute structure and military type discipline- neither of which even remotely describe me or my teaching style. I'm used to handing power over to the students and helping them grow into it. I'm used to tossing out ideas and having the kids eagerly scramble to gobble them up and turn them into themes of their own design.
There wasn't much scrambling this year. It was more like being in one of those horrible tv sitcoms. (distant memories of my musical class from last year that would break into song and dance their way to the garbage can were now only a passing mirage on their way to some middle school class. Wait...I wanted to call out after them as they laughed their way past my classroom, I belong with you guys!) These kids were vicious- full of images that friends are really enemies (frienemies, they were fond of calling each other) to fight with and make up again over and over. All year long. They scratched each other, berated their teammates during softball games, stuck their middle fingers up at visiting 7 year olds during a soccer match and went through each other's desks throwing out their books and supplies.
They weren't motivated to do much more than pass notes and tell secrets about each other. This negative energy spread quickly, over powering the rest of the class. Even "good kids" who'd come in with gentle spirits were soon talking back to our classroom assistant and giggling with glee over the power they thought they held. Oh, and like any good teacher I tried all kinds of team building exercises-- from a kickboxing class to push them out of their comfort zone to writing appreciation notes to each other every morning to our final affirmation books intended to create gentler, kinder students of them all. They never arrived at running the class themselves, as fifth graders in the past had done and they never designed and presented their own community change project- we were still too busy working on personal change for that.
Professionally we in the elementary team had taken on a lot of curriculum work as well. Meetings into the night and writing...so much team writing, searching for the perfect words to describe all the learning we'd hoped to impart. It was the most satisfying part of the year, creating strong documents that would stand long after we ourselves had gone.
But it did require enormous amounts of time and energy. Back in the beginning, when we were attempting to redesign our report cards to accurately reflect what we wanted parents and future teachers to really know about our students, we'd decided to put in a few evening hours. Collectively. One of our teachers had just returned with a new baby and was feeling hesitant. I myself had just returned with 2 teenagers, new to our family. It was a huge transition. During the conversation about whether or not it was fair for all of us to try and decide unanimously about whether to stay or not, the teacher with the new baby was feeling put upon. He didn't want to be the only one to say no, and after all, he was the only one with small kids at home. (Well, there was me, but somehow I didn't count.)
Yeah. Apparently adding two new children to our family wasn't much of a thing because they were older (any parent of a teenager can tell you they're really just like toddlers in big bodies- still trying to do things they shouldn't, getting into all the things you told them not to and pushing the limits of all boundaries--only with a more complicated vocabulary than, "No." ) I spent a lot of time pondering this situation. I didn't count? Really? I am one of two single moms here on campus and have spent most of this year wondering if I hadn't taken on more than was humanely possible.
I do spend most of my time estranged from colleagues. Campus living is one of those blessing/curse arrangements and while my kids usually end up on the blessing side, more often I hoover somewhere between. I try to think most of the reason I am not invited to events or house parties is because I have all of these kids to take care of. And I am getting better at crossing the divide between personal and professional relationships. But there is more that separates us than just family make-up. Most often, I am completely ok with that and tend to see it as my own design. Its always hard to know exactly how other people see you, but this comment really shed light on that. Somehow, the things I've taken on here just don't seem to mean as much. And that's how I am ending this year. Wondering what it all means and what exactly am I doing here?
