From LouAnne Johnson's Muchacho:
"...I realized there are two kinds of books in the world--the boring kind they make you read in school and the interesting kind that they won't let you read in school because then they would have to talk about real stuff like sex and divorce and is there a God and if there isn't then what happens when you die, and how come the history books have so many lies in them. They make us read the boring books so the teachers just have to talk about safe stuff like amoebas and tsetse flies and the hypotenuse of a triangle and all those things which nobody cares about in real life" (79-80).
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Reflection
When I think about writing about teaching, I always envision myself writing about coming to my classroom an hour early and sitting at my desk as I gather my thoughts for that day. This is not my reality. The bell for first block rings at 7:55 a.m. My reality is screeching into my parking spot around 7:51 a.m., grabbing my banana from my passenger seat, throwing my bag over my shoulder, and rushing to my room in hopes of getting there before my line of students. I am a good teacher; I'd be a better one if school started at 10 a.m.
Often, I start the day with crumbs on my shirt and dabs of moisturizer showing on my face. It's okay. My heart's in the right place.
When I think of these haphazard mornings, I often am reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses, "[God's mercies] are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). You see, God's mercies are new every morning; teenagers' mercies are not.
I wholeheartedly believe that more than my students wanting a teacher who arrives hours before the first bell and has copies neatly stacked and ready to go and never encounters a dilemma while using technology, they want a teacher who cares about them. They want to be taught by someone who listens, by someone who empathizes, and by someone who believes.
Typically, with teenagers, you get one shot. If you can't prove to them on Day One that they matter to you, you've lost them for good. Why should we expect any differently? Most of us are that way after all. Take my husband, for instance. He likes you until you give him a reason not to. After that, while he'll forgive you, liking you is forever out of his mindset.
As teachers, we prove ourselves on Day One. We walk into the classroom (or sprint to it, in my case), and we put our hearts on our sleeves, showing students that we teach because we care for them. If we can't do this, we lose many students for good.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not foolishly believing that all students get on board with us and love us unconditionally from that first day, but the truth of the matter is that if we lose them on that day, it's hard to ever get them back.
Because we teach students who really just do not have it in them to greet us with new mercies each morning, we have to be that person. If Johnny had a bad day yesterday and sent us home in tears, it's our job (or our calling) to come in the next day, ready to help him through whatever made him act that way.
Our mercies must be forever new.
Often, I start the day with crumbs on my shirt and dabs of moisturizer showing on my face. It's okay. My heart's in the right place.
When I think of these haphazard mornings, I often am reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses, "[God's mercies] are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). You see, God's mercies are new every morning; teenagers' mercies are not.
I wholeheartedly believe that more than my students wanting a teacher who arrives hours before the first bell and has copies neatly stacked and ready to go and never encounters a dilemma while using technology, they want a teacher who cares about them. They want to be taught by someone who listens, by someone who empathizes, and by someone who believes.
Typically, with teenagers, you get one shot. If you can't prove to them on Day One that they matter to you, you've lost them for good. Why should we expect any differently? Most of us are that way after all. Take my husband, for instance. He likes you until you give him a reason not to. After that, while he'll forgive you, liking you is forever out of his mindset.
As teachers, we prove ourselves on Day One. We walk into the classroom (or sprint to it, in my case), and we put our hearts on our sleeves, showing students that we teach because we care for them. If we can't do this, we lose many students for good.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not foolishly believing that all students get on board with us and love us unconditionally from that first day, but the truth of the matter is that if we lose them on that day, it's hard to ever get them back.
Because we teach students who really just do not have it in them to greet us with new mercies each morning, we have to be that person. If Johnny had a bad day yesterday and sent us home in tears, it's our job (or our calling) to come in the next day, ready to help him through whatever made him act that way.
Our mercies must be forever new.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Introduction
I am a fifth-year teacher at a small rural high school in South Carolina. I mostly teach 11th grade English, some Advanced Composition, and Yearbook Production. My philosophy of education is the same as most teachers as I believe that every child can learn given the right environment and the right tools. However, I also believe that we must prepare children for the futures they realistically face. Once they leave us, they will move out to a society where Thomas Friedman believes "the world is flat." They will compete for jobs with people from all over the world, and it is our responsibility to help prepare them for this inevitable future.
I believe that teaching must first begin with two things: passion and concern. We must have passion for our profession and for our content, but we must be concerned for our students and their well-being. If you find yourself in this profession and realize you are missing those two things, replan your life. Teaching is not for you.
Teaching is hard and grueling work, but in five years, I have found that there is nothing more rewarding. (No, I don't have my own kids yet, so you naysayers rest assured that, in my life, this is the most rewarding venture I've found.)
Teaching requires heart and patience, dedication and resilience. Without these traits, you will either burn-out or blow-up, and neither makes for a pretty situation. In that sense, however, teaching is not always pretty. Teaching is knowing what kids go through at home, and teaching is wanting, with your whole heart, to be able to adopt every one who isn't treated like the special person he or she is.
Teaching is about wanting to make a difference every single day, but teaching is also about sitting back and being willing to learn. I learn something new from my students every single day, and regardless of meeting AYP or getting into college, there are students who have taught me more than I could have ever dreamed of teaching them.
I teach because it's what I know and it's what I love. When I think about the future, I can't picture myself outside of the four walls of my classroom. It's just where I belong.
I believe that teaching must first begin with two things: passion and concern. We must have passion for our profession and for our content, but we must be concerned for our students and their well-being. If you find yourself in this profession and realize you are missing those two things, replan your life. Teaching is not for you.
Teaching is hard and grueling work, but in five years, I have found that there is nothing more rewarding. (No, I don't have my own kids yet, so you naysayers rest assured that, in my life, this is the most rewarding venture I've found.)
Teaching requires heart and patience, dedication and resilience. Without these traits, you will either burn-out or blow-up, and neither makes for a pretty situation. In that sense, however, teaching is not always pretty. Teaching is knowing what kids go through at home, and teaching is wanting, with your whole heart, to be able to adopt every one who isn't treated like the special person he or she is.
Teaching is about wanting to make a difference every single day, but teaching is also about sitting back and being willing to learn. I learn something new from my students every single day, and regardless of meeting AYP or getting into college, there are students who have taught me more than I could have ever dreamed of teaching them.
I teach because it's what I know and it's what I love. When I think about the future, I can't picture myself outside of the four walls of my classroom. It's just where I belong.
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