I knew this would be tough; that kids don't see the opportunities before them and that teaching can suck away any moment of energy that you are willing to give to it. I knew I'd have kids that I'd like, some I wouldn't, and that they'd all need to be treated with the same respect, expectation, and compassion. I knew I'd feel displaced working in someone else's class, with someone else's rules, and kids accustomed to a certain style of teaching.
I knew the successes would be different than my expectations; and possibly few and far between. I knew that my evenings and weekends would be spent deciding on curriculum, trying to find things to help kids make connections, and somehow striving for balance between the job and my own life.
I knew I'd miss it when I was done; yet I couldn't help but count the days as I went along. I knew I'd struggle to maintain appropriate levels of emotional attachment. I knew that some kids would like me, some would not, and most would be indifferent. I knew that Aeryn's advice to me one morning as I was leaving would echo through my mind "Be brave, mama." I knew I'd feel relief as well as disappointment when it was all done.
I didn't know how attached I was to my idealism. I felt a great success with one student, who openly "hated" me (or any other equivalent emotion), yet worked after school to bring his grade from a 19% to a 91% in a matter of weeks. This student rapidly became one of my favorites, though I won't ever admit again that I had favorites (how do you not?). In one three word blurb, my joy and elation at this students uncharacteristic academic achievement has transformed into emptiness. Sadness. A feeling of wasted effort. Though I know that effort is never truly wasted.
"Thanks for nothin". Is all it took to place my world on end. I'll rebound, and I know that. Perhaps this is exactly the experience I needed to be prepared to invest my soul into each student and not fall apart when I don't succeed at helping them choose a bright future. My brightest moment of the last 3 months has now become my most painful memory. Fortunately, there is much future left for these fifteen year olds who hold life in the palm of their hands. Perhaps one day the progress I thought had happened will indeed surface. I can only hope.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
empty shell
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4 comments:
Be Brave Momma... oh that is so cute. Sounds like an upsetting experience, I am sure it won't be the last, teaching isn't easy. But you'll do fabulous, and I know you will leave lasting impressions on some students.. really like the scripture says "how great will be your joy if you bring one soul unto me" I think the same thing applies in school, Just reaching one makes all the difference! But I'll bet you reach a lot more. Be brave! (You have one fantastic daughter!)
You are going to be such a wonderful teacher! Your students are lucky to be learning from someone who cares so deeply about their successes and failures.
Don't get disheartened! Your daughter is very smart- Be Brave!
I think you should also remember that for some 15 year-olds admitting gratitude is tantamount to admitting they are a failure because they could not do it on their own. So thanks for nothing could be the words of a tough person who may hope you can focus on the word thanks. And you can still focus on the fantastic job you did which was to help someone no matter how ungrateful.
Way to go! I know the feeling of let down, but like you said, no effort is ever really wasted. The kids who needed the most help in my classes never would admit it, but when I tracked them down, laboriously worked with them to improve (read I bear-led them along), it was rewarding to see their grades improve. And though only a couple asked me to come visit, they all flock to me when I come say hi now and then. Even the tough, "you can't teach me anything" ones. Love ya, gal!! You'll do awesome out there, don't you doubt that!
-m
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