The past three weeks have been THE most challenging weeks of my teaching career so far. Granted, that's only about a year and a half, but I always thought that the first year was the hardest. But the happenings of the last couple of weeks have been things that no college class, no student teaching experience, no workshop, and no text book could have ever prepared me for.
Let's back up to two weeks ago; I have learned that "Teacher Work Days" and "Professional Development" is teacher code for paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. As I sat in our "Professional Development" session listening to all the stuff that was expected of me I became more and more discouraged. This was not what I signed up for. I'm here to teach, to coach, to mentor, to work with students. Not to write papers and sit through meetings that won't have an impact on my ability to teach in any way. But as the "stuff" piled up, so did the discouragement and for the first time in my entire life I started wondering, "what could I do besides teach?" (And for those of you who know me, you know that when I say "my entire life" I mean, my entire life. All I've wanted to do since I learned what a teacher was is to be a teacher.)
As the weeks went on, so did the assignments, paperwork, needless meetings, and flaming hoops to jump through. I'd had all I could take. I stayed late on Friday night doing all the things I needed to get done so that I could go home and spend Saturday and Sunday thinking about anything besides school.
Boy, was I wrong.
Around 1:30am on Saturday I received a call that the unthinkable had happened. Four of our students were in a very serious car accident, and one of them didn't make it. His name was Ronald. He was a proud FFA member and fire fighter. He was on our Hunter Safety Team. He was on our Tool ID team. He was at every meeting causing roars of laughter everywhere he went. He was a hard worker, probably the hardest working student I've ever taught. He was mischievous, and silly, and funny, and caring... and now he was gone.
This is the hardest thing about teaching that I have ever experienced. Harder than any assignment or duty or workshop or professional development. And it took me until Saturday afternoon when I was talking to my teaching partner understand why exactly this was so hard: because this was meaningful.
I realized in that moment that I don't teach because I think it is absolutely imperative that every student in the world be able to calculate board feet or remember the formula for photosynthesis or remember what comes between the gizzard and the cloaca in a chicken. I teach because I like helping students. And in 30 years, no matter if I'm teaching or if I've moved on to another calling in life, I won't remember what his grade was or what he scored on the final. I won't remember if he was able to demonstrate higher order thinking skills during our Paideia. But I will remember how he found a hand full of zip ties and attached them to everything he could in my classroom (there's still one on my door knob that I can't get off.) And I will remember how he taped his initials on the wall and when I made him take it down he took the paint down with it. And I will remember how he looked so goofy with his Wranglers tucked inside his cowboy boots and how he didn't care that he looked goofy.
And those are the things I will remember because those are the things that are meaningful, the things that mattered.
I have spent the last 3 days worrying, not over my lesson plans, but over my students. I haven't been very good at attendance and I haven't done a great job getting my purchase orders to the bookkeeper or signing in and out, but I have tried to be there for my students every possible moment because they are what matters. They are all that matters. They are why we teach. And if we neglect them, then we negate our entire purpose for being here. If we allow the paperwork, and the politics, and the stuff to take priority over them, then we have failed them.
They are what matters. They are all that matters. They are why. we. teach.
1 comment:
I'm so sorry Elizabeth. I remember losing my best friend, also in a 4 person car crash, when at Central & that was honestly one of the hardest things I'd been through to that date. I can honestly say that I specifically remember the individual teachers that were so compassionate during that time. I also quickly had my eyes opened to the ones who shouldn't have been teaching unfortunately. So let this be of some solace to you - your students WILL remember how you loved on them during this time. I speak from experience and I wouldn't take anything for the teachers who just let us be quiet, for the ones who just gave the shoulder squeeze/hug, for those who put hw/test scores/getting through their lesson plan timelines to the side to be REAL teachers during a time of REAL pain. Again, I'm so so so sorry for your loss/your students loss of their friend & for the FFA's loss - he sounds as if he was a wonderful addition to the blue & gold. I know words seem feeble at times like these but it's my prayer that God will continue whisper the words of encouragement to you as you reflect and remember why you're in it to be a true teacher/mentor.
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