My friend Jenn has just resigned from Teach For America.
Jenn and I spent countless hours of the last forty days together. I probably, scratch that, I certainly spent more time with her than I did with Jake, my husband. We planned and replanned lesson plans. She gave me amazing ideas and copies of her materials. She helped me write up numerous directions, poems, and lists on chart paper (my handwriting still needs considerable work). She’s the reason we started our Thursday night dessert runs (even though I’m concerned about my next weight watcher’s weigh in, it was totally worth it). She spent hours talking to me when I was crying so much that my words were more like babbling mumbles. She made me laugh and helped preserved my sanity.
This might not seem like much to you, but try putting it in context of all this:
Seventeen summer school students who had one teacher on the first week of summer school, only to find out that they had three more the next week.
Fist fighting between two girls at 11:20am on our first day at school.
Changing the seating plans at least eleven times in the course of four weeks.
A girl on the first row who incessantly raised her hand, knew the answers but made loud disappointment noises each time she wasn’t called on.
A boy who raised his hand before we even asked a question because he wanted to participate so badly, but rarely answered correctly.
A really intelligent boy who had no patience for our simple assignments, would lose patience quickly and start walking around the classroom or belittle the other students.
A small boy who hit every girl taller than he any second we looked away and would deny any wrongdoing vehemently.
A quiet, sweet girl who couldn’t read at all.
A boy who continually walked in late and proceeded to sit at his desk and do nothing. As time progressed, he’s tap or bang on his desk. He also made fun of the other students.
A boy who never listened in class but responded thankfully and with interest during one-on-ones.
A quiet boy who didn’t get much attention as he deserved.
A boy who could never physically sit in his chair.
Two girls who chatted incessantly no matter how far apart we seated them.
A boy who got moved around no less than eight times because he’d behave no matter where we seated him and thus got the default leftover seat.
A boy who came to school tired everyday and couldn’t hold his head up.
A boy who cared, listened and shared.
A girl who slept or felt sick every day.
A class that knew how to use the three inexperienced teachers against each other. A class who has incredible potential. A class that made me cry several times this summer. A class where we felt like we tired everything but succeeded at nothing. A class where each student was special.
This summer was incredibly rough for me. I could explain but I don’t think it’s possible to understand unless one has been through it personally. After all how difficult can it be to manage a bunch of third graders?
I don’t think there are enough words.
Which is exactly why Jenn made a significant difference in my life in the first month I’ve known her. Which is why I feel traumatized knowing she won’t be there with me in the next two years. Which is why I miss her already.
Especially since I got my new job yesterday.
South Bronx, here I come.
Third grade, here I come.
Welcome back.
I know teaching can be difficult, and looking over your list I could see the stereotypes in every class. You do a job which is needed, and unfortunately under-appreciated by many. But that is because many don’t realize how much work it takes. I do. And I appreciate teachers. So keep your chin up.
I have no idea what it must be like to teach in an inner city school, or to teach in the lower grades. I was trained for secondary education and by chance found myself working for a college, with mostly non-traditional-aged students.
There is nothing more important than teaching, making that connection. It is so wonderful to hear the sincerity and enthusiasm with which you are going about this. Your compassion and and love for your students will often transcend the daily ups and downs in your students’ lives.
One of my professors, long since retired, said that on the days when things don’t go as planned, to break things down into two necessities: to teach the students to think, and to give them a positive experience (so you have another chance with them later).
It sounds like you are off to a great start. Hang in there.
I taught as a grad student. I taught primarily 19 year olds at a large state university. I thought I wanted to teach as a career. At the end of my 3 years there, I knew that wasn’t the path for me. I respect and admire you for pursuing teaching–it is unspeakably hard. I can’t remember how I ran across your journal, but I’ve read it pretty much inside and out, and sense that you have enormous reserves of energy and determination. I think you will make an excellent teacher and wish you the best of luck.