Mar 11 2008
Teaching: the best of times
In a recent post, Amy said, “I agree with Suzanne and Darron. I have been in a few public schools now and it all seems the same, how many of us are really that insane to keep giving up as much as we do for 25 years! I don’t think I will make it….” As one of those “insane” ones who has been in the work for 25 years…I have to answer. Boy, do I love this work. It requires everything I’ve got, makes me yearn to do better year after year, and suprises me (almost daily) with moments and conversations with young people. I know the list of frustrations; I’ve lived them. I started with 34 third-graders in a portable classroom in the Mojave Desert in California where we had to completely move out of our classrooms and into a cupboard every three, six, or nine weeks for a break in our year-round school. But what I remember about that year are the kids–the joy–the moments when we laughed together, sang together, and learned together. And I remember that I ended that year just wanting to be a better teacher.It is still like that. Maybe it is because I’ve changed jobs so many times–from third grade to full-time teaching at a university–the landscape kept changing, as did the challenges and epiphanies. But I still find myself walking to first block with a smile on my face, anxious to see my students, interested in how their writing is going, hopeful I can motivate and encourage them to do the best work they can. I see this work as a privilege.So….I’d like to invite you to share a few of your best times in teaching. We’ve got enough dreariness here in mid-March with multiple feet of snow on the ground and a looming budget vote, so skip the complaints. Find a moment or an experience when you said, “Yes!” as a teacher and share it…I look forward to your responses.
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there are many teachable moments, many of them from my time outside – folks climbing, caving, paddling who succeeded in meeting a challenge they faced. In the classroom, it took me a little longer to have one pop into my head. Mrs. Lasky’s 2nd grade class in Troy, NY. Student teaching, I was assigned several different classes and small group reading or resource room roles in an elementary school. I spent an hour with her class, it matched up with one of the reading times and we did math and some other stuff. Anyway – to get around slowly to the point… I did a big unit on bats (cause I like em). I tracked down every bat book in the school, went to a caving book store in the region, and we made the classroom into a cave – with stalactites etc. and incorporated all sorts of activities into the theme, and read lots and lots of bat books. Those kids easily knew more than any adult (excepting maybe cavers and biologists) about bats. They were so EXCITED about bats – and we read widely and different levels and different texts – and they all got into it. Later we did a birds activity as well – made bird houses, each kid got to know their own bird, taught the class- same deal- loads of books, art, science, etc. I put so much energy into those kids – and left feeling even more energized – they were great. It was good teaching and very rewarding. Darron
I probably have an unusual way of looking at this, as I spent so many years doing something other than teaching (31 years in the airline industry). When I returned to school at age 42 and learned from Elaine Millen’s Human Development course that I was in the ‘midlife consciousness stage of life’, I understood what drew me to want to make a positive impact somewhere other than with my two children. I needed to do more than pour Coke and coffee; Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s sojourn to Aruba wasn’t particularly impacted by my cheery “Hello!” or “Bah-bye, now!” (yes, it was much like that Saturday Night Live skit!). Elaine also introduced me to Howard Gardner’s Multiple Intelligence Theory. It shook my world. It was a decade before the transformation from flight attendant to high school teacher happened. I introduce them to Howard within the first few weeks of the semester. We create our own Important Book, based on Margaret Wise Brown’s book (thank you, Penny). The core of my classwork with my students is, “Teach me how you are smart,” all the while reminding them that we all are…in different ways. So often I wonder if they are absorbing the pearls of wisdom I dish out daily…but my reward came during my first set of finals and surfaces often since then. I add a reflection piece at the end of the final where the students critique the course, me, and themselves as learners. Often, I have received comments such as, “This is the first time in my life that I ever felt smart.” Wow. To not have realized this until your teens is sad;however,to know that you may have introduced someone to this truth is more rewarding than I could have imagined.
I think my most memorable teaching moment(s) took place last year. I had working in my old job for four years building a chorus program and building the morale of the music program in general. I had decided to tape my choir singing the National Anthem and subit it to be considered for a chance to participate in the national Anthem Project in Washingotn DC (June 2007). After months of waiting I was notified that we where chosen to be the one and only representative for NH at this event. I was so excited. We auditioned middle and high school students to be a part of a 25 member chorus that would take on a year long project promoting patriotism and spreading to others the history behind and the importance of our National Anthem. 25 students were chosen and it was a very rough start. We had to learn harder music and only had one day a week to prepare and practice. We also had to raise $550 person. We wnet through many battles of non-support at first, but as the kids took on community and school projects to raise awareness of the trip and the National Anthem Support came in various forms. That year we ang at town meetings, local events, an Arena Football game, and most impressive – we sang for the NH House of Representatives. We also had resolutions from the house and senate written in our names in support of our efforts. A citation form the goverenor was also given to us. It was such an amazing experience. the kids were beaming in excitement and pride. And as great as this was the best part was when we were in Washington. As I was conducting the choir on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial I was overwhelmed with emotion. These students were so happy to be there and were singing form thier souls. It was they best they ever sang. They had worked so hard to get there and it was truly an amazing moment. Later on that night while visiting the Lincoln memorial the students gathered on the steps and sang our National Anthem without my direction to do so. Silence fell over the many people gathered at the monument and they stood with hats off and hands of their hearts. As I looked around people were smiling and others had tears in thier eyes. It reminded me of how powerful music can be and what a difference it makes in our lives. These kids sang unplanned and touched the lives of all those people gathered. It was truly amazing.
Okay! Where are you guys! If you’re not going to respond, you’ll be subjected to another story from me!…so I’m trying to teach my students what it feels like to learn something new. I was a new teacher, yet I took a chance…We simply do not remember what it was like…not to know how to do what we now do so easily…reading and writing. My students were about to go over to the preschool to teach the little ones their letters, numbers, etc. So…I bought a bunch of knitting needles, and in a small group format, I taught them how to knit. I wanted to throw them into an arena that was unfamiliar, so that they would feel what it was like to have to learn something new…its awkwardeness, etc. Yes, boys, too. Amazingly, the students who generally ‘get it’, had difficulty ‘getting it.’ Yes; they wanted to stab me with the knitting needles. They complained, and their brains bubbled. This was not fun for everyone. Again, amazingly, the students who are more hands-on (not particularly academic; often males), got it easily. One of them, Steve, was generally seen as a hood-wanna-be. Secretly to me, he had unfolded his love for Eric Carle’s, “Papa, Would You Get the Moon for Me”, as his sister read it to him every night during their parent’s divorce. It represented hope that daddy would return to the family. He was not organized, and his mind was in another place when he showed up for class. The knitting piece hooked him. Come the winter holidays, he swaggered down the hall with his “bling” bouncing from one side of his chest to the other, with his best bud at his side. He had a holiday bag hanging from his hand with green tissue peeking from the top of the bag. He said, “Ms. Keene…I made a lesson plan about Frosty the Snowman, and, oh yeah, I’ve got a gift for you.” I told him I simply couldn’t wait to open it during the holidays. I opened it on the spot. Inside was the most beautiful, handmade scarf you’ve ever seen. He made it himself. That was cool. I don’t look at that Eric Carle book without thinking of him.
In class we were asked to comment on two topics recently: whether we agree with Steve Jobs’ comment that “reading is dead”, and also to share a recent time that we have particularly enjoyed the profession of teaching.
This response really has more to do with the prior topic . . . the importance of reading and the question of whether or not reading is dead. I can honestly say, on the second topic, that I really enjoy what I do at school on a daily basis. Yes, there is too much work, too many responsibilities, etc., but it is thoroughly enjoyable to be a part of providing young people with tools and then watching them go to work and create. Participating in and observing the ideas and productions of students in everything from illustration and design, to photography and photo montages, to film and television production makes me smile and laugh several times a day.
The most critical and recent experience that has brought me joy, or rather, peace, from teaching though, has taken place outside of my classroom. It is the bit of satisfaction I have derived from teaching and helping my mother. About twenty years ago, my mother lost her hearing from a hereditary disease that robbed her mother of her hearing at the age of thirty. My mom is a fighter, and she keeps on trying, but it has been extremely difficult for her to participate in life the way she had for so long. She has always defined the phrase “people person,” always organizing parties for her ten brothers and sisters and their wives and children. She loves kids; she had eleven of them and adopted another. She loves just chatting with anyone and is always interested in learning about them. As we grew up she almost always had someone who needed help come live with us until they got back on their feet.
When she lost her hearing though, she turned to books and newspapers. She always had a book on hand, and when she tired of trying to communicate and feeling like people thought she was stupid because she couldn’t understand, she would read. When I think about it, I realize that reading is probably what helped her to keep her sanity. Rather than let the frustration completely overtake her, she would read to give her that chance to have a conversation with someone else, even if it was a silent one. The isolation that deafness creates is hard for the hearing to comprehend. She lost touch with all of her friends, and most of her family. Even her doctors didn’t have the time to communicate with her; it was easier to talk to my father and let him be her ears and voice, and let him take the responsibility of being the messenger later on. How frustrating it must be for my mother, to sit there watching, wondering, being polite, while her doctors discuss her with someone else, rather than take the extra time to communicate with her; how difficult for my father to have to assume this responsibility; and thank god they have each other to get through this time.
My sisters and brothers and I would try to come up with ways to help my mom stay in communication. We started taking laptops whenever we visited or at family functions and typing up what was being said on the screen so that she could stay in the loop as someone was telling a really funny story, We started using white boards to write out the gist of what was being said. It wasn’t fluid conversation, but it was better than nothing, and she felt less isolated at least.
The critical thing that we did, however, was teach her to use a computer. It is really hard to teach a deaf person how to use a computer. The student has to look at the screen to see what you are talking about, but when they also have to look at your face to read lips, it is very hard for them to follow along. She stuck with it, though and so did we, and before long she was able to use email, and that was a great way for her to at least have an idea what was going on, and stay in touch with her family all around New England, the United States and the world. It was a great help, and she enjoyed it, but it was never like a true conversation, which again, is such a simple part of most people’s daily lives that it is nearly impossible not to take it for granted.
So we looked into something else, because we all knew how much my mother missed a true conversation. When I think about how maddening it must be to just want to call your daughter to tell her something, but not be able to do such a simple thing; instead to have to wait until you see her and hope that you remember that tidbit when you get to see her again, or to have to rely on someone else to make the call, translate the response, then make your reply for you. This is enough to wear anyone down, even someone with a generally optimistic attitude. It would cause me, and I can see how it has caused my mother, to further insulate herself from the world rather than be a burden . . . and all for a simple thought that you want to convey in a normal manner. So she kept on reading and we kept on researching and trying to help.
The next thing we looked into was the TTY telephone system, This again, helped, but it was far from fluid. I wonder how and why this system was designed the way that it was. The basic premise is good, and maybe technology at the time was the limiting factor, but this system needs an overhaul. The process involves calling a third party, the TTY operator, who is a go between between a deaf person and a hearing caller. The deaf person speaks, and then has to indicate with a “go-ahead” that it is time to reply. The hearing person speaks, and the operator types, so there is quite a delay, and privacy or intimate conversation isn’t possible. On the other end, my mother would read the response on a telephone that displays the typed response. This is the biggest flaw with the system for my mother and I’m sure for many others: the display on the telephone is about a quarter of an inch tall and is a digital read out. My mother, whose eyesight was good but not perfect at the time, was having a hard time reading the screen, and as much as she wanted to use the system, it became another source of frustration for her . . . she tried though, and wanted to continue but as it became more difficult for her it also became more difficult and time consuming for anyone to call her with it, and her friends and many in her family just didn’t bother; there is always something more important for many of us these days, and once the pattern of regular communication is broken it is easier to let it ride on like that than to make the effort to re-establish. I don’t understand how or why the design of the TTY phones hasn’t improved; it is a pretty safe bet that if someone has reached the stage in life that they can’t hear, they might not have 20-20 vision, and might have difficulty reading a small digital readout.
I thought and investigated: “there has got to be a better system.” I researched on the internet, contacted the assisted living organizations and tried to find a better system, one that had a bigger screen, with scalable fonts, so that she could read and participate in the conversation more conveniently. Finally, last January, after I determined that as far as I could tell, one didn’t exist, I came up with one. I drove down one weekend and cobbled together a new computer for her with my niece Kathy’s old CPU, Dan Macleon’s old monitor, and spent a Friday night into the wee hours of Saturday morning reformatting the computer and reinstalling software and installing DSL so that her internet connection would be more seamless than her antiquated dial-up. I spent the weekend teaching her how to use AOL instant messaging, set her AOL preferences to use a large font and effective colors, and set a speakerphone beside the computer. We programmed her phone with auto-dialing for her family, and set up a system where she would type into AOL just an “R U there” to whomever she wanted to call. If they responded, she would know it was all right to call them. She uses the speaker phone to call and she talks, and we type back the answer. No waiting for someone in between to type and for my mother to try her hardest to read the screen. No waiting for my dad to call someone to try to get a simple message to someone off of her mind. If she was bored or lonely, or just wanted to say hi to us, she finally could! As one of my sisters commented, it was like the scene in the movie about Helen Keller where she finally realizes she can communicate instead of being caged and trapped in her own mind. I was so glad that I had been able to help her reach that simple point again. And of course I wondered, why the hell did it take me so long to figure this out? I guess I was expecting the technology to have existed instead of having to piece it together. As much as I have tried to explain to her, that that is exactly what I did, I just thought about it, and pieced together a solution for her from stuff that already existed but just needed enough thought to put it together, she still thinks I invented something that should be marketed to others, and honestly, I wish that we could share this idea in some way, so that others who have been suffering with the seclusion of deafness might benefit. I actually have another modification to an existing technology that I would love to develop; hopefully before long I will.
I wish that was the end of the story, and that she has simply been able to enjoy her renewed opportunities for communication, and use it to reconnect to the world. There is more to the story, though, that ties back to the topic of the critical importance of reading, beyond just the importance of the ability to read as a way to pass time and fill voids for a person who can’t hear.
My mom recently had a stroke, that, unbelievably, has affected her eyesight. She can see, but her sight is very compromised. She definitely can’t read regular print books, and she can’t see well enough to knit. I went to the library and checked out some large print books, and found that even those aren’t large enough. We have tried several magnifiers, and the glare from all of them bothers her eyes after a short time. As much as she was trying to maneuver them to allow her to read the morning paper, for example, she couldn’t. Imagine how crazy it would make you to be able to read a catchy headline, become interested in the subject of an article, but not be able to read the rest.
So I’ve gone to work again, and have set up a process for finding articles that my mother is interested in, copying and pasting and reformatting them so that we can print them out in 30 pt bold font. Since the computer monitor now bothers her eyes, we try to give her printed articles and save her computer reading time for our telephone conversations. Aside from that, as many have noted, there is nothing like sitting in a comfortable chair or in bed and reading a book, newspaper or magazine. Right now, she can read these articles, and she can’t do much else. Reading is so important to her these days that she re-reads the articles she has when she has run out of material.
I’m now in the process of scrounging up a fax machines so that my sisters and brothers and I can find articles for her from newspapers and begin faxing extremely large print versions of them to her so that she can read an article with her coffee in the morning. It is easy to take the simple pleasure of reading on paper for granted, but I can tell you, from very personal experience, that in this one case it is very much alive: it is a lifeline that is crucial to existence, and I’m glad that I have been able to offer her help in maintaining this seemingly simple gift.
There are so many memorable moments. A little over a week I came in on a Wednesday feeling so tired and sick that I realized about 7 that I needed to leave. When my homeroom found out the response from the kids was “Does that mean we don’t have to have our pre-lab done?”. I stopped in to Jason Cicero’s room to let him know I was leaving so he could pass it on to the rest of my team that there would be no team meeting that day. His homeroom kids started with the same response as my homeroom with the exception of one who looked at me and said “I hope you feel better Ms. Hill”. This is was from a student we have struggled with all year – each of the team teachers butting heads with him to get him to realize his potential. It was the sweetest thing and will always be filed away in my good things file. I emailed his mother to tell her because I knew she had been struggling with him all year also and figured she would like to hear a really good thing. She was glad I told her.
On Thursday night we had open house for the incoming freshmen. Current freshmen were used as guides and when the presentation was finished the teachers went up to their rooms to be around while the 8th graders and parents toured the building. Three of my team kids were positioned near my room as guides and while we waited up there for the tours, the kids wanted to play Simon Says. It was so fun and just always reminds me of how fun teenagers can be – struggling to be “grown-up” but still with that inner child that wants to play.
A few weeks ago I had assigned a pre-lab for homework. I had been emphasizing that without the pre-lab they didn’t do the lab. I don’t think they took me seriously because when it came down to it on lab day I had 34/45 kids sit out the lab. I was so frustrated, angry and exasperated but was so proud when two days later I had 98% participation in the next lab.
The range of emotions that I can go through in a day is amazing – from feeling so proud of the kids that I think I will burst at the seams to so discouraged that I don’t know how I can keep putting myself through this. I have heard elective teachers tell me that the freshmen this year “act so entitled and are behaviorally terrible” which confuses me because I don’t see that in my classes. I wonder if I am out-of-touch with expectations or reality.
I also think of my two classes that like to think they are distracting me from the lesson when they are asking questions about “what color is blood?” or “my grandmother is having brain surgery and can you explain to me what it means to have water on your brain?” or “how does dreaming relate to science?”. I am thrilled that they have questions and want to understand things other than the current topic. I just love working with kids and their energy and enthusiasm even though they drive me crazy some days. It just encourages me to be a better teacher and person and to keep trying.
Like Kathy, I too starting my teaching career mid-life (I hope it is only mid-life!). I worked in the guidance office for many years processing grades, schedules, etc. My own 2 kids had reached high school and I so enjoyed them and their friends. To this day one of my son’s friends still says he would have starved in HS if it wasn’t for my wallet! Maybe it was the thoughts of the empty nest approaching that led me back to school and seeking my teaching certification.
One of the most rewarding experiences I enjoy every year is taking the FBLA students to the state competition. Year after year the success of the Kennett students makes me proud! I share in their enthusiasm and excitement; Kennett has produced many state winners over the years. The bonding and teamwork unites these promising young professionals who may otherwise never associate with each other outside of the classroom. At the awards ceremony the anticipation, excitement, and disappointment on each of their faces melts my heart and brings tears to my eyes. The kids share in each others’ successes and support those who walk away without that 1st, 2nd, or 3rd place medal. We go as individuals and come back as one. And that special “Thank you Mrs. Babine” makes it all worthwhile!
I’m humbled by your honesty and your passion….all of you. I feel so lucky to work with you!
I’m bad at coming up with favorites, so I find it difficult to think of a single moment that stands out to me. Right now the thing that drives me the most is my caseload. I feel like I am personally responsible for them, and I try to take that seriously. Not only do I want them to do well in school, but I want them to be happy. I try to keep up with them as much as possible. Some days I wish that I could skip out on my classes and just take care of them. In a way, being a case manager is like being a temporary parent. For six hours a day, I have to see to their overall well-being. Some days it feels like a burden, and often like having a second full-time job, but I wouldn’t enjoying work without them.
I am the Job Prep teacher, 9th grade through 15th grade or 21 years of age. I have many memorable moments, and also some I would like to forget. I am a teacher at heart. I have taught in a one room school house in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado at 8500ft with 8 grades in one room. I have worked on a private TBI (traumatic brain injury) team. There is nothing more real than what I do. I don’t have text books.
I do differentiated instruction for kids cognitively from 18 months to 5th grade levels. A montage of extremes, just this week went from teaching Shakespeare to changing diapers.
In keeping with the 9th grade curriculum, I used a modified version of Romeo and Juliet. It was in a condensed form, consisting of ten chapters, adapted to a lower reading level. The two students involved couldn’t wait to get to the next chapter. The chapters involved idioms (like; elbow room, good riddance, into thin air,sweets for the sweets) and olde English. They were excited to hear us explain what the meanings were. I was surprised that they were buying into it and learned again, never to assume ‘they won’t get it.’ My project was this Shakespeare unit, so I won’t give it all up here.
I do have to agree with other people that have posted, that some of my most memorable teaching experiences have been outside of school. Trips to Waterville Valley for 4 days at a time to Special Olympics has to be at the top. To see students with disabilities stand on a podium and receive Gold, Silver and Bronze medals, who otherwise would not of had that experience, brought tears to not just my eyes, but parents of these kids. The Special Olympic motto is: “If I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.”
To see kids leave my program and be productive members of the community is another teaching experience I am proud of. I translate that into our mission statement that we have high achievement for all of our students in accordance with the state and national standards.
I had a student walk up to me in between classes not long ago and say, “We did it,” and he extended his hand while smiling a wide grin. There were all kinds of other students swirling in and out of the room, as is typical at class change time. It was a bit crazy and sudden, this moment, you know? I also hadn’t seen or spoken with this particular student in weeks, not since we shared a Writing course last fall, really. My brow took on a raised, furrowed appearance, and I shook his hand, but did not truly know what we were celebrating. He saw it in my face, and told me that the admissions essay he had written, that he and I had conferenced, revised, and edited, together, last semester, had gotten him into his school of choice, and he had just received the good news.
That’s what it is for me… the good news. I love getting the bits of it here and there from the students. “I did this with my learning… I did that… or check this out, Mr Fayle.” There’s a fine pride there. It’s great when, as teachers, and better yet… as humans, we get the real treat of exchanges like these. It strikes me as an honor that someone would seek me out, locate me, and let me play audience to their fine pride.
So the other day I was in the grocery store and I thought that a young woman in her early 20’s was one of my former students. I had to know. We first crossed paths in the produce section and by the time we made it to frozen foods I had to simply blurt out the question.
No, she was not my long lost student. As a matter of fact, she would have to be 32 not 22 to be the girl I was thinking about. Does that happen to you? Do the faces freeeze in time?
There are so many students frozen in time. The tough nuts to crack are the ones I think of most often. I remember a boy named Casey who failed my 9th grade English class, then failed my friend’s section, then came back to my section. Yes, it took him three tries to make it through. Third time was a charm, and I think it is safe to say we both learned a lot that year. I never had to walk in shoes like his. He didn’t think any teacher would accept who he was or what he came from. But, by the third time around, he was able to drop his guard.
On the other hand, I think of the student, Andy, who mailed me a copy of “The Little Engine Who Could” when my first child was born. He wanted to remind me of his application to the Honors Program (at Kingswood) that I rejected. You see, he had written a very sarcastic piece in which he compared himself to the that little engine. He wound up revising his application, joining the program, and having me as his teacher. He thought he was doomed. Instead, he flourished. We worked to use his sense of humor to his advantage. I asked him to put more of his voice, that sarcastic, witty voice in his college essay. Then I read it to his peers, and they were inspired to revise their own pieces. It sort of overflowed. It was thrilling to witness it. When the semester was over, Andy asked me if I would do an independent study with him on humor and satire. Now that was fun. I’d like to say that it ended well, but Andy caught a case of senioritis and the class was dropped.
Andy is close to 30 now, and I don’t know if I would recognize him in the grocery store. Some of the other students I am thinking of are the ones who kept reading ahead and then would apologize for it. Or, the ones who begged for an advisor so they could start an ecology clubs or literary magazine. I love working with these enthusiastic, passionate kids. All of that after school time seems to give energy not exhaust it.
Teaching is such hard work. It is very time consuming. It is also addictive.
I took seven years off, and I am glad to be back.
And people wonder why we do what we do!
Thanks folks for the inspiration.
Best memories??? First ‘real’ classroom – ‘took over a combined 5/6th grade mid-year (29 kids), threw out the basel readers and workbooks and got down to some serious reading and writing. We ended up planning, fund-raising and enjoying a three-day backpacking overnight trip in the Whites complete with poetry/ reflective musings as well as good old storytelling. Now and again I’ll come across one of those students who will greet me w/ the phrase “Sugar!” because that’s what I yelled out after I cracked open my forehead on an overhanging tree limb.
I remember my elementary history students recreating semi-life sized replicas of ancient Egypt, Rome and Incan Empires in the three sixth grade classrooms after our extensive literary research. They then offered guided tours to the rest of the elementary students. (The gladiators were a crowd favorite, though the embalmers, silhouetted behind a white sheet, were a close second.)
My first World History honors class at Kennett were a wonderful group who reveled in role-playing. Our World Peace Conference with Rev. Lee and Rev Schmauk was particularly gratifying.
I could go on and on…”Mr. Freedman, I hated when you made us do those ‘What in the Worlds’, but now I so appreciate what I learned.”
There are so many ‘goods’ to this profession, I only wish the public at large were more cognizant and appreciative of the enormous positive impact teachers have on their lives.
There are snapshots:
On open house night last year: the parent of a student in my American Lit class has an older son, then a Freshman at Keene State College who was also one of mine two years before–she tells me that I had done a wonderful job preparing her son for college.
An email from a parent earlier this year: “Thank you for keeping literature alive in the valley.”
There is a student who tells me that she has never had to work so hard in an English class, and she feels that she’s really learning how to think critically. There is another student who stops by on a Friday afternoon and we talk for an hour and a half. She is the first person in her family to graduate from high school; she has a full scholarship to a four year university. She thanks me for pushing her to do better without letting her off of the hook.
There is a colleague who, this year, met with former graduates. They didn’t like me as a teacher when they had me, but they appreciated what I did to prepare them for the kind of thinking and writing that they were doing in college.
I have a folder of thank you cards from students.
Today: I will shortly leave for Concord for a conference sponsored by Hannaford’s and the New Hampshire Department of Education. This year I was nominated for NH Teacher of the Year. I will be meeting with other nominees to share work and talk about my teaching.
We rarely get moments when we know, when we see, that we are doing the right thing, that we are passing something on and leaving an impression. It can take years to see the results of our hard and sometimes misunderstood work. I savor these snapshots.
The first year that I was teaching, the students had an advisory period that was a half an hour after lunch. One of the activities that we did with them was to have them write cards thanking their teachers. When I previewed this activity, I thought to myself that I would probably not be getting one being a first year teacher and thinking how much I could have served them better. Much to my surprise I actually received several of them, all for different reasons: staying after school to help them, for being understanding during sludge test, etc. These are stored in my HAPPY THOUGHTS folder to remind myself of these moments.