We just completed our first month of school with the current occupants of room C-128 at the end of the C hall, River Valley Middle School. I am already learning my lesson for the year---adjust, adjust, change, adjust.
Don't get me wrong--anyone who knows me can tell you that I'm not one for sitting still, unless I'm sitting at a computer while getting something prepared for class, a meeting, etc. However I am surprised to find myself adjusting so thoroughly, and in every week, during my 12th year of teaching. One would think by this point, more than a decade into my career, that I would just have things down pat in that far away land of "this is what I teach every year at this time".
That's about as far from reality as one can get, and I hope that any new teachers/first-year teachers reading this post find some comfort in that---you may NEVER stop being a new teacher. Something will always change--your school, grade level, subject matter, textbooks, building administration, district administration, state standards, student needs, laws, the list is endless. If you are lucky, REALLY lucky, only one or two of these will change in a year, and you will be forewarned.
If however, you have a perfect storm of giant changes like I do this year, you may feel overwhelmed. It's SO EASY to get jaded, negative, and frustrated by these changes. After all, why can't "they" just leave well-enough alone? (P.S. If you figure out who the "they" are, please let me know!).
We want, nay, covet the idea that teaching is something we figure out--that there is a master equation to arrive at "Master Teacher Mountain", and once we put all of the pieces in line, we can climb right on the Mountain Express, choo-chooing our way to greatness. But the teaching profession is not a train chugging to an end destination--and teachers who work and think that way are often the negative players in our buildings. They wish their years away on "if only", and are missing the beautiful scenery along the way.
Teaching is not a train ride to retirement,
but a spider web to greater heights.
If you find yourself tired, frustrated, just worn down, and uninspired by your work right now, it's NOT necessarily because you need to leave teaching. It could be that you've been spending A LOT of time weaving your web, and you haven't even noticed it! How exhausting it must be for our arachnid friends to spend all hours of the night working, while everyone else is sleeping, creating great art instinctually, only to have the winds of change tear it down the next day! (Sound familiar)?
How do you know if you've been weaving?
- You find yourself inspired at times, but exhausted (mentally, physically, emotionally)
- You generally like your coworkers, but can't seem to spend time socializing because "there's so much to do".
- You find that you are seldom doing the same thing more than once--you are trying to get to every child through a variety of means, all the time!
- You look around and wonder how everyone else is not as tired as you!
- You feel like every change and request brought your way by leadership/administration is a tear in the productive web you've been weaving.
- You question whether teaching is really what you "are supposed to be doing", "your calling", or "worth it" any longer (especially if you are close to retirement).
- You seldom look your students in the eyes anymore.
- Besides their school work, you cannot recall personal facts about more than 10 students, because you are so busy doing teaching that you've lost the desire/need/reality of bonding with students.
- You cannot remember the last time you reached out in a positive way to a student's family.
- You are not having fun at work. Ever.
- You cannot wait for the school day to be over...every, single day.
Sound familiar?
How do you fix it?
By adjusting your mindset, one student, one class, one day at at time.
Chances are you are a good teacher, if not a great one. All of that time that you've spent chatting with teachers in Twitter Chats, following Facebook teacher groups, pinning items on Pinterest, making anchor charts, pouring over learning data....etc...etc....etc...has made you BETTER. I mean, seriously, we are the Olympic athletes of education. We spend hours every day honing our skills, trying new things, rewriting our playbooks. We are the Darwin's Bark Spider of the education word (look up these spiders--pretty awesome skill set! They've certainly passed all of their Mother Nature summative assessments).
So what do we do, as teachers, when our webs are torn down by the winds of change, rains of assessment, or by wild forest-dwelling creatures we call "students"?
We find a way to have fun.
Because teaching without joy is as dead to us as it is to our students.
I know what you are thinking...
"Katie, there is no CCSS standard that assesses for 'having fun' or 'citing elements of joy'."
"I'm afraid to go away from what's scripted, because if my admin walks in, he/she may think we are unfocused or that my kids are off-task."
"What I used to love isn't part of what we teach anymore".
Teacher friends, these are EXCUSES. Granted, if your VERY FAVORITE thing to do was to give lecture notes to 30 students who sat silently and wrote down everything you say, we may have to have a talk. But ALL of us can find a way to bring about our passions, to have fun with our students through introducing one element of creativity, new background knowledge, friendly competition, or inspired talk. All it will take is one time--you will be caught in your own web, taking the first step again.
From there, it's just a jump to the left....and then a step to the right (sing with me! :) ). Take a step up the web toward a greater student understanding, or step sideways while they need new help. Find a new structure that works for you (often it's not the content that is losing our students, but the delivery...find a new way to get it to them that you both find engaging). If something breaks down, either fix it and try it again, or step over it and spin something new.
My greatest hope is that we find within ourselves withing a great renewal of mind and spirit. So great, that as we once again climb up our glistening webs, a whole crop of new teachers comes behind us, marveling at the glory of our webs and beginning their own.
In conclusion, I will leave you with this image from a very smart, sassy archnid...
You are...
Until the next bell,
~K