Monday, August 12, 2019

The Night Before School Starts

I love the night before school starts. 

I love that a whole year of possibilities lies ahead.

There will be new students, who are delightful in their individuality. There never were two persons exactly alike, and by teaching, I get to see a microcosm of developing humanity.

There will be new content challenges, which will make me a better teacher because I will have to solve new problems and figure out how to help my students develop their language skills, both in breadth and depth, in the best possible and most fun way.

There will be new challenging students, whom I may come to dread seeing every day, but who will ultimately make me a better teacher because I will learn and develop strategies for dealing with difficult behaviors.

There will be new victories, where I will keep working with a student who A), doesn't like me or the class, B), isn't motivated to learn at all, or C), is motivated and works hard, but just can't seem to keep up with his or her classmates. We will struggle along for a few months, and then, sometimes slowly and sometimes seemingly overnight, things will change. A joke or a comment will reveal that we've finally made a connection; a student will start putting effort in and will see positive results; or suddenly things will click and I will start realizing that a student's work is much higher-quality than it was before (sometimes this arouses suspicions of cheating, so I always pay attention to what they are able to do in front of me without help, and when it turns out that things really have finally clicked, it is the best feeling).

There will be growth, where a student will present in front of the class, write a paper, have a spontaneous conversation with a classmate, read an article, or comprehend a video, and I will be amazed and proud at what they are able to do in Spanish. 

There will be clean whiteboards, which will be written on erased countless times, and new school supplies, which will slowly get used up and fade as the school year goes on.

There will be new strategies to try, some of which will work wonderfully to increase student learning or engagement, some of which will need to be adjusted a few times, because they show promise but aren't working quite yet, and some will be tried and then dropped with no plans to try again next year. 

There are always new coworkers, some of whom will join my circle of friends and become sounding boards, outlets for venting, cheerleaders, or even someone I can go to in tears.

There will also be a lot of difficult things. There will be rebellious, hateful, and rude students. There will be ridiculous, bureaucratic requirements delivered from the school district and the legislature, which will take up hours of my time and have little to no impact on student learning. There will be days where classes will drag on, where my students stare at me dully and never seem to become interested, where I will realize, in the middle of an activity, that it's not working AT ALL, but I have no backup plan, and my attempts at improvisation will fall short. There will be times when I come down harshly on a student and realize I should have been more patient, and I will have to apologize, and other times when I will realize I should have addressed a particular behavior and didn't, and will stay awake at night thinking about how to handle it if it comes up again. There may be some calls to CPS. There will be days where I cry and days where I decide I have to quit teaching (I usually have about one per month).

However, I will keep coming back, and things will get better, or even if they don't, I will figure out a way to deal with it. I think that the most successful and long-lasting teachers have a few things in common. One is a genuine desire to help students, another is the ability to wear rose-colored glasses. To not wear down, you have to always be looking on the bright side, always think that problems can be solved, always come back ready to do better tomorrow, always hold out hope that that one student WILL learn, that you are making a difference, that that kid will, whatever the reason behind their misbehavior, begin to treat the people around them better - you just have to figure out a way to make it work. If I got to a point where I were not able to focus on the good, and find ways to minimize the bad, I would have to find a different job. Like any job where you're dealing with humanity, there's a lot of bad, places where our fallen natures are evident. It's not that teachers refuse to see reality (if we didn't, we couldn't teach students where they are at); I think that it's that teachers also are always seeking the potential good and ways to help their students arrive at where they could be.

But also, like any job where you're dealing with humanity, you also get to see all the good, the places where the image of God is found in humanity, via altruism, kindness, humor, growth and learning, friendship, connection, courage, determination, perseverance, honesty, and creativity.

It's those things I look forward to seeing throughout the year, and I'm not thinking about the bad yet, which is why I love the night before school.