Friday, August 7, 2015

Ten years ago I made the decision to become a teacher.  For my mother, it was eighteen years later than she would have liked for it to happen.  I majored in English in college.  I did that because reading and writing were my only true loves as I grew up.  I briefly tried majoring in Nursing, but I had no talent or affinity for it.  I loved the written word, loved poetry, loved everything about writing. My goal was to be a published writer.  And I had amazing mentors available to me at The University of New Hampshire - Charles Simic, Donald Graves, Tom Newkirk, who was even my advisor, but I didn't know how to access their prowess.  And, I felt neither deserving nor good enough to warrant it.  So I never approached my major as I would do now, looking back.  I wandered through it, touching on this or that, and trying to figure out where I should concentrate.  My parents thought I should naturally be a teacher.  I didn't know how to teach anyone, nor did I think that sounded like the foundation of a fabulous life, so I did not pursue teaching.

After becoming a mother to three amazing children and watching them go through their own educations, something clicked.  My oldest son was in high school and things were happening that I could not believe.  I suddenly thought to myself, "Well I could do a better job at this than some of his teachers are doing!"  And with that I looked into alternative certification programs.  I completed one, got a job teaching high school English at a large, rural high school, and finished my Master's degree in Curriculum and Instruction. There were teachers who had been teaching at this school for twenty, thirty years.  Of course, as a new teacher, I was doing remedial teaching to students who had failed the exit level state exam that is so coveted in the state of Texas.  Most of these kids were not thrilled with the idea of learning, and reading and writing were quite possibly lowest on their lists of things they enjoyed doing.  What's the fastest way to burn out a new teacher?  Give them the lowest students and make their job as difficult as possible.  Now of course we all understand that the "great jobs" go to those who have paid their dues, who have lasted longest in the trenches.  But sometimes those trenches are really difficult to last in.  One day in class as I was preparing my students for a midterm exam, I turned my back to the class to write something on the board and suddenly smelled something burning.  I turned and saw that in the very back of the classroom, my sweet, rough, struggling Lydia had taken out a lighter and set her midterm review sheet on fire.  I approached her, put out the burning sheet, and asked her to go to the office.  On her way to the office, she stopped in a girls' bathroom and set the waste bins on fire.  She was charged with arson and arrested that afternoon. And this was one of my favorite students.  I knew she struggled to fit in.  Her older sister was beautiful and every guy at school wanted to date her.  Lydia was overweight and I believe she questioned her sexual orientation.  She later told me that she felt like she couldn't pass at the regular high school so she wanted to get kicked out and sent to the juvenile detention facility because it was easier.  So that's just part of what I mean when I say it was not easy to work in this capacity.  Also, I was commuting twenty miles each way, carpooling with a teacher friend who lived near me, and I was falling asleep in the car on the way home each afternoon.  I wanted to work there for twenty, thirty years, but part of me just thought there has got to be something out there that is easier.  I ended up lasting three years.

That summer I applied for and was hired to teach at a middle school very close to my house.  It eliminated the commute, and I was teaching eighth graders, two full classes of which were labelled as talented and gifted, or TAG.  Suddenly, students who loved learning, loved reading, and wanted to talk endlessly about reading and writing! ...and their parents who thought every time their child misbehaved, it was somehow your fault.  My first two teaching experiences were hugh dichotomies of one another.  Would I finish my career at this school?  The teacher turnover was negligible.  Teachers were dying to work at this school.  They seemed to appreciate me.  Even the crazy loon British principal did stick up for the teachers, when she wasn't parading her own strategic agenda to the world.  She ended up ruining the moral of teachers throughout the school, and even though I spent the last two years of my five years at this school as the English department chair, I felt more unhappy  than I had ever been and quit this job to take a job working in the office of a very quiet, private company.

Eight years of teaching under my belt and I thought that I was done.  I was ready to walk away and forget it all. Five months away from education and I missed it terribly, though.  I kept working for this crazy little company, but I was also still on Amazon, buying new books on educational ideas that I would never teach.  I was at a Project Graduation fundraiser one day in March (for my youngest child) when some of the teachers were griping about students and classes.  I finally verbalized that I wanted back in.  I didn't know where to look - I had already taught at opposite ends of the spectrum.  I threw my name in the hat and hoped for the best.  I was finally hired by a charter school - something new to me - that taught all low SES students who struggled to do well.  I welcomed the challenge.  I was a minority teacher - white.  The kids were 97% hispanic and 3% black.  There were two white students at the school.  They comprised less than 1% of students.  I worked my ass off.  I remember my friend Kirstin telling me that it doesn't matter how hard you work - the AP scores play out according to wealth factors in schools, the wealthiest kids doing the best and the poorest kids doing the worst.  I so wanted to prove her false.  In October, the superintendent left suddenly and took a large percentage of the staff with him.  It felt very disjointed.  Teachers complained that discipline issues were not being addressed.  The inmates were running the asylum.  Adding to the craziness, this was an extended day school (5 pm) and an extended year school (two weeks longer than the local school district).  Teachers were exhausted.  I was exhausted.  Leaving school at 5:30 or later and bringing home dozens of essays that needed comments and grades on them for the next day.  Yet, I cannot say I was all that unhappy.  The greatest frustration existed in the way the school was run and how confusing it often was.  I thought this might just be where I was to play out my remaining twelve years in education.  Until one of my tutors and I were talking one day and she told me about the progressive school her daughter attended.  She thought I would fit in there and love it.  So I applied...

In a week I will be starting a job at a progressive charter school whose goal is to educate the whole child, socially and emotionally.  They use all project based learning, aiming to create confident critical thinkers and problem solvers through relevant lessons that include gardening and weekly hikes through the 214 acres that envelop the campus.  I love their love of nature and their intent to think beyond readying kids to take a test.  I'll also be teaching mixed grades of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders - something I've never done before or even thought of doing before.  But this school has been around for eleven years and has a great reputation.  And it understands that the traditional approach does not always work and is willing to try something else.  I want to say I will stay here forever, that I will retire from this school.  I hope it is the best school I have ever seen and I love most of the job set before me.  I don't think any teacher ever loves everything about a job and I think it's ridiculous to expect that.  I don't think anyone loves everything about their job, no matter how happy they are. There are always problems, right?  This will be my fourth teaching job in ten years. My closest friends that I got certified with have all been at the same school for a decade while I have bounced around.  I'm trying not to take it as a sign that there's something wrong with me.  My daughter says she thinks it's awesome that when I am not happy, I look for something else that I believe will make me happy.  I do think life is short.  Too short to pass up experiences that may not only help you grow as a human being but in turn help others grow.  Ten years in, I have a broader view of who kids are, whether they are struggling learners or unmotivated learners or talented and gifted kids.  They all have a place at the table of life.  They are all wonderful people.  They have all helped shape who I have become as an adult.  And I believe I have helped to shape them.  My parents are gone now, but boy would they be excited to know how much I love being a teacher.