Three-Quarters Reflection

It’s nearly impossible to sum up what I have learned in the last year and a half of teaching. It’s hard to name the things that have challenged, pushed, and, as a result, taught me, though they do have names. All 150 of them. Some have creative names. Some have traditional names. Some have names I, quite frankly, never want to hear again. They are students, and they are teachers.

I’ve heard from others how much they learn from their students. This is usually accompanied by a loving tone, a heartfelt sense of wonder and awe at the amazing life lessons that these young souls impart. Except for a few wise souls, most of my students have not taught me by their examples. Well, that’s unfair. Some of them have definitely taught me by their non-examples. But I haven’t had that quintessential moment where I marveled at the profundity of a student’s words or actions. Maybe I don’t know my students well enough to understand how profound their words or actions are. Maybe that’s my fault. I have learned from them, though, but mostly because I have seen myself in them. And I have seen how to be better.

               

Teacher #1: We’ll call him Forgiveness. One day after school two of my students were checking the behavior tracker to see how many marks they’d received. One had only gotten two, a major accomplishment for him, and exclaimed with pride, “I did great today!” Forgiveness, realizing he had gotten six, replied in surprise, “Wow. Six. That will never happen again.”

               

I’ll admit—I didn’t like Forgiveness. Of course we’re not supposed to have favorites and we should treat all children with respect, but when he graduated eighth grade and moved on to ninth grade, I wasn’t sad. For some inexplicable reason, he got under my skin. But when I heard the surprise and disappointment in his voice as he assessed his own behavior that day, I realized that I wasn’t the only one who believed he could do better. He did, too, and he was ashamed at his performance that day. He wanted to do better. How many times had I done worse than I knew I could do? How many times had I said or done something that I realized only afterwards was wrong? I, too, had realized my mistakes and had a desire to correct them. In those moments, I had been so grateful for understanding and patient family and friends who allowed me to apologize and do better. They didn’t hold my mistakes against me or expect me to repeat them. They expected the best of me and gave me the opportunity to try again when I failed to reach their expectations.

               

In that moment, I realized how important it is in teaching to take the same approach with students. I think I had done a pretty good job of holding high expectations for my students. Whether I liked it or not, they were required to come back day after day to try to meet those expectations even if they had failed the day before. But so many times, I held onto their past transgressions and indulged myself in using those mistakes as reasons to go on dreading each time they walked in my door. Above my door, I posted a sign that said, “Every day is a new day.” The day after I put it up, a student saw it and said to me, “Duh, Ms. Shoaf.” It seems obvious, but unfortunately, there were many days where I had to look at that sign and remind myself to let yesterday stay in the past and start fresh every day, having left behind both my own mistakes and my students’ mistakes.

Teacher #2: We’ll call her Understanding. I have had Understanding for two years. She’s an exceptionally bright student—catches on quickly and works hard to reach her goals. She’s a straight-A student and has high aspirations. She’s very social and has always been a leader in her class. Unfortunately, she also has a hard time recognizing appropriate times to develop relationships with her classmates. Read: she talks a lot. Her admirable confidence also leads her to believe that the things she has to say take precedent over the things that I have to say, and when I remind her that they, in fact, don’t, she’s not swayed. Read: she talks back.

               

Last year I took a lot of her backtalk personally. I let it affect me emotionally. I reacted emotionally, and things ended up ugly more than once. Her mom and I are on a first-name basis, and we’ve had plenty of talks in the hall. Things have gotten better, but I would definitely not say she’s easy. That being said, I’ve been able to maintain a pretty good relationship with her (when she’s not misbehaving) and we can usually work through things pretty quickly. I’ve also learned that when her ugly side rears its head, it’s almost never my fault. During those many in-the-hallway talks, I usually ask “Is there something else going on that’s bothering you?” The answer is almost always “yes.” I’ve learned from her, and many other students, to postpone my judgment—and in many cases, my offense—until after I know what’s really going on. Occasionally, my students are legitimately mad at me. But more often than not, they’re mad about something else and I present a convenient target to take their aggression out on. Once I realized that, it made it a lot easier to not react emotionally, give them the benefit of the doubt, and do what I can to make their situation better. Almost always, once we have the discussion, they’re apologetic and grateful for my understanding. Understanding herself once wrote me a note after a particularly rough day: “I’m sorry I’m so disrespectful sometimes. You don’t deserve it. You really are a good friend.” The truth is, my students are people, too, and all people have bad days. How much easier it would be to recover from a bad day if those around you were understanding about your circumstances, rather than retaliating and allowing the problem to become worse.

               

Teacher #3: These ones are Sincerity. Sincerity is not just once student. It’s many students across a few classes. More accurately, though, sincerity is probably time. My second year of teaching has been infinitely better than my first. Most important for me, I believe, was knowing what to expect. I do so much better emotionally when I know what to expect. I once spent considerable time fretting over what to wear on a rock-climbing date, not because I was worried about the boy I was going with, but because I didn’t know what appropriate rock climbing attire was. I had no idea what to expect, so I was worried. If I were ever to go rock climbing again, I would feel completely confident because I already know what to expect. That was the difference for me when starting my second year: I knew where to start. Last year I found a lot of wrong ways to do things, and I found a few things that worked. I felt more confident, and that allowed me to be more myself. I still have high expectations for my students, and I have structured procedures. Students who misbehave receive consequences and we deal with problems when they arise. They definitely do still arise because I’m far from expert in behavior management. But the way I deal with problems is not the same for every student every time. We have high academic rigor, but I also sing directions sometimes. Because I want to. Because it pops into my head. In one class we read the objective together in silly accents every day for a week, for no other reason than that I thought of it one day right before read it. So we did it. I’m myself. I’m sincere. I like rules, and I like structure, but I also like fun. So rather than being worried if I smile too much or if I’ve administered enough consequences to a certain student, I have fun. I’m happier, and it has made my classroom a happier place. I have a bulletin board full of pictures and notes Sincerity has given me. Today, Sincerity told me he liked my personality. At least once daily, Sincerity asks if he or she can stay in my room all day instead of going to [fill in least favorite class here]. I realize it’s not a teacher’s role to be the students’ friend, but it’s a lot easier to be a good teacher when I don’t feel like all my students hate me. People like to be around others who are confident and true to themselves. Sincerity taught me that.

               

I still have a long way to go, and I’m not even sure I like my job yet. There are thousands of things I could tell you that I still need to change or improve on. But like so many things, becoming a good teacher takes time and practice. My students and I are learning together, taking turns being the teacher.