Lessons Learned from the Battle of the Bulletin Board

I knew early on in my life that I wanted to be a teacher. Though there were lots of red "future teacher" flags that went up (reading to my stuffed animals, creating pretend grade books and lesson plans, even making my stuffed animal students change classes at predetermined times... yeah I've always been a nerd,) the one that was always most evident to me was the excitement I felt the closer we came to the start of the school year. Shopping for school supplies, the smell of the freshly buffed hallways, the feel of the pages of a brand new spiral notebook... mmmmmm.

Gearing up for this school year as both teacher and student was no different. I shopped for school supplies, labeled my notebooks and dividers, and purchased my ceremonial new package of writing utensils for the semester (yes, there's a new package each semester. See? Nerd.) And since I'm also TA-ing this semester, I also had some teachery preparation. I fine tuned the syllabus, created the course webpage, helped proof the course materials, planned activities, assignments and guest speakers, but of course, as fate would have it that before all was said and done, I would have to have it out with a bulletin board. Now, while there are a lot of teachery genes I have, there is as least one that I just don't have: the bulletin board creator gene. There's a reason I didn't go into elementary education: you have to have the bulletin board creator trait before they'll even think of admitting you to teacher candidacy. 

I started by taking down all the old pictures and articles that were push pinned to the cork board. As I did, I piled them neatly on the floor so as not to lose them as I intended to reuse them to hold up the new displays. Five hours of struggle later, I finally finished. I had stabbed myself with push pins, stapled my fingers, and suffered the world's most painful paper cut ever, but I was finished. While I'd like to say I learned loads about bulletin board design and construction throughout this whole fiasco, I didn't. But I think what I did learn might be even more helpful.

1. You can not pick up a handful of push pins at a time. If you try, you will be stabbed in the palm of your hand, it will hurt, and you will most likely bleed. Such is life. One of the hardest lessons I've learned of late is that you can't force things to happen all at once. You can't always be in control and expect everything to happen on your time and your schedule. Life and learning happens one step at a time, each step building on the last. If you try to take too many steps at a time, you get tired, confused, and overwhelmed. Instead, you have to pick up one push pin at a time. It will take longer than you want it to, but eventually you'll have them all in the palm of your hand without an ounce of bloodshed. Which is always much nicer.
2.  It takes more than two push pins to securely fasten almost anything. You can try only using two, but whatever it is you're trying to secure will almost always fall off, if not immediately, then later on when you're not there to fix it. Just like picking up the push pins, fastening down anything takes time and patience and if it's not done right, eventually what you were trying to secure will fall down. Likewise in teaching, it's important to ensure that your subject matter is securely attached to your students. Just sticking enough pins in to make sure they can pass the test isn't good enough because, eventually, they'll forget whatever it was you were trying to attach. They need a firm, secure foundation to really make sure it sticks and to make sure that they carry what you taught them with them when they leave you.
3. No one may notice, and that's okay. You made a difference anyway. You may never get a "Thanks!" or a "Oh, you did a nice job" but somehow for someone you made a difference. Even if you never see the fruits of your labor, they're out there.
4. Stapling yourself in the finger hurts. And what hurts more is that you have no one but yourself to blame. There are all kinds of other ways to say this which makes me think that humans as a species are prone to doing this. You know, shooting yourself in the foot, sticking your foot in your mouth, stapling yourself in the finger. It's hard to hold up the paper with one hand while loading the stapler with the other and then pulling out the jammed staple and then stapling yourself with the first staple as it shoots out after being jammed while still holding up the thing you were trying to staple to begin with. Personally, I tend to think that I can handle way more than I actually can. I agree to participate in activities, take on extra responsibilities, commit more of my time than there are hours in the day. And what almost always ends up happening is that I overwork myself and burn out or some aspect of my life falls to ruins as I try to "do it all." But I have to constantly remind myself that it's okay to say "no" sometimes. Sometimes, you already have a full plate and to add anything more would throw everything you're working for off balance. Decide what's MOST important and do that. Let someone else take on the rest. Otherwise, you'll just end up stapling yourself in the finger and the only person you can be mad at... is you.
5. When someone offers to help, it's okay to let them. Should you run into a situation in which you find yourself trying to hold up the paper with one hand while loading the stapler with the other and then pulling out the jammed staple and then stapling yourself with the first staple as it shoots out after being jammed all the while still holding up the thing you were trying to staple *deep breath*  and some kind soul notices that you need help and asks if you would, indeed, like some help... SAY YES! It's okay to need and accept help. That's why we network. That's why we have mentors. And for the most part, I'd be willing to say, that's the reason we're all here... to help. (By the way, thanks @countrywandering.)
6. Finally, it's never going to be perfect. Give up on that immediately. Before you go insane. Nothing is ever, ever perfect. Not bulletin boards, not a day class, not a paper, not a thing. And while it's always good to strive to improve, striving for perfection is just silly and impossible. All you can hope for is that this time will be better than the last and that next time will be better than this.

So, while I still hate bulletin boards, it's done. It's proudly displayed on the first floor of Patterson Hall. Feel free to stop by and admire my handy work. It's the one with my blood, sweat, and tears all over it. It was a vicious battle, I'll admit, but I learned more about teaching from that board than I have all summer. Now, if only it had taught me something about creating bulletin boards....