Just a Normal Day
I'm not sure that I'm aware of what the current stereotypes are toward teachers. I don't know what goes through a person's mind when I answer the ice breaker, "so what do you do?" with two simple words; "I teach." Perhaps people think I color and laugh and tell stories all day. Or maybe, if the conversation reaches the fact that I teach high school English they might think we write poems and dissect the meaning behind different literary works by Poe, Shakespeare, and Dickinson. I don't know what people think. What I do know is the truth. I know the truth behind the stress, frustration, gratitude, and little victories each teacher shares. I know the look of fear, belonging, fatigue, sadness, and invincibility on the faces of teenagers; inner city, multicultural, intelligent, deprived, and ever so resilient teenagers.
Today was a 14 hour day. I woke up at the usual time, watched the sun rise over the highway while I listened to my book on tape, and arrived in a good parking spot at 6:45. There are always papers that need to be graded, lessons that need to be planned, and work that needs to be done, so that's what I did until a few other teachers stopped into my room to discuss some concerns. The assembly we were supposed to bring our students to at 8am was cancelled, so we each shared our personal frustration with that and produced some ideas to replace the activity with all together. We talked about students on the daily radar, especially the recent string of suspensions we've had for various fights. My first class entered and we got started right away with the lesson. I informed the students that were absent of what they missed, gave a student extra time on a quiz from the previous day, connected with my students on a personal level so that they know I'm genuine in telling them that I care about them and what goes on in their lives. Old homework was collected, new homework was handed out. Books were read, phone calls were answered, students were sent to various necessary places, and, of course, brains were filled with new knowledge. This pattern continued as students shuffled in and out for a few hours. I reminded students to be in full uniform, I denied their requests to use the water fountain, I disciplined those who talked back, swore, had their cell phones out, or completed any other various task that needed discipline. My lunch break finally came, in which I was able to sneak to the restroom to wash my hands, find my lunch, and return to my room before my student council girls arrived. I now had a peanut butter and jelly in one hand, and a calendar in the other as we decided on a day to carry out our next fundraiser, and talked about the months ahead. I spoke to them with food in my mouth like my mother always told me not to do. If you ask me, this is a perfect example of multi-tasking. I signed passes, wrote on the board for the next class, got out my attendance book, and answered a few quick texts before my 20 minute lunch "break" was over. In entered my period 5 class. Returning from the cafeteria must be like traveling through the desert during a wind storm because they are consistently late to class, parched, and in dire need to use the restroom. "No." "Not now." "You need to wait." "Maybe later." "Please sit down."
"But miiiiiissss." "But nothing."
The rest of the day continued in this pattern. Smiles were exchanged, cell phones were confiscated, notes were taken, nurse's passes were written, words were defined, e-mails were sent, minds were awoken, concepts were taught, (concepts were learned?) hands were high-fived, referrals were written, jokes were told, questions were asked, and stories were heard. Grammar was absolutely corrected.
When 2:40 hit and every last chair was up I dismissed these caged up animals back into the wild. I could breathe. I could sit down for a brief moment. I could also use the bathroom, grab some water, and wash my hands. I could finish taking attendance, collect a few papers, gather my notebook, and head to the meeting starting in 5 minutes. I headed down the hall to the meeting where I was greeted with supplies, lessons, and a Sex Health Education curriculum and survival kit to be used during the new 12 day course that we were teaching our students beginning on Monday. An English teacher teaching sex ed. Bring. It. On. Like I said, it's just a normal day!
It didn't stop there. When the meeting ended an hour later and the facilitators left, again the teachers got to talking. What did we notice about today, what's going on with this one, do you know what happened to that one? Endless worry and concern- and today, pride, as we learned two of our students were accepted to attend the World Summit of Peace Laureates Conference in South Africa in the fall.
We talked for a while and then I went to my classroom to finish up some things before heading down to watch a school play. One of the most dedicated seniors wrote her own play, created all the costumes, and set up the few props on stage. The staff had been promoting the Black History event for a week to our students, parents, and entire community. Minutes before the play was scheduled to begin, I looked around the auditorium. 30, maybe 35 people were there. At some high schools, the auditorium would have been filled, parents would have purchased flowers, dinner reservations would have already been made in order to celebrate their talented children. Not here. Many teachers stuck around to support the up and coming actors and actresses, singers and dancers, and as I looked around my heart broke as I noticed the abundance of empty seats.
The play was excellent! Even with minimal props and no microphones, the actors and actresses were talented and their dedication was quite obvious. It was a great way to learn even more about some of my students as I watched them in character and out of their element up under the hot lights. Dinner was supposed to be served at 6:30 but as usual something went wrong, orders were misplaced, credit cards were not used, and at 6pm the hard working secretaries learned their food was not coming. Panic mode set in as hungry families waited. Hungry families that counted on that meal. Hungry students who had been in school all day and hungry parents who were home from work or on a quick break, looking for a dependable source of fuel. My own exhaustion was starting to set in. My feet hurt from standing all day and moving around, running from meeting to meeting in between my six classes. My throat hurt from reading aloud all day, talking to the students and my own peers, and my stomach growled from lack of energy since my 10:40 lunch "break." I wanted coffee, dinner, and my bed.
But it was just a normal day. I adore my students and as they walk into my classroom every morning or afternoon, I smile. I welcome them with open arms to a place they can feel comfortable, safe, and home. They make me laugh on most days, and I most certainly count my own blessings. Despite the challenges and the defiance some of them display, deep down they are kids. They brighten my day. 14 hour days are common, giving up my Saturday mornings is a joy, I may not get a lunch break, the ability to go on a coffee break, or heck, even use the restroom when I need to, but at the end of every day as I crawl into my bed and say my prayers, I am grateful for my students, for what they teach me, for the daily challenges I face, and for a job that I simply love.
And I'm ready to do it all over again tomorrow.
Today was a 14 hour day. I woke up at the usual time, watched the sun rise over the highway while I listened to my book on tape, and arrived in a good parking spot at 6:45. There are always papers that need to be graded, lessons that need to be planned, and work that needs to be done, so that's what I did until a few other teachers stopped into my room to discuss some concerns. The assembly we were supposed to bring our students to at 8am was cancelled, so we each shared our personal frustration with that and produced some ideas to replace the activity with all together. We talked about students on the daily radar, especially the recent string of suspensions we've had for various fights. My first class entered and we got started right away with the lesson. I informed the students that were absent of what they missed, gave a student extra time on a quiz from the previous day, connected with my students on a personal level so that they know I'm genuine in telling them that I care about them and what goes on in their lives. Old homework was collected, new homework was handed out. Books were read, phone calls were answered, students were sent to various necessary places, and, of course, brains were filled with new knowledge. This pattern continued as students shuffled in and out for a few hours. I reminded students to be in full uniform, I denied their requests to use the water fountain, I disciplined those who talked back, swore, had their cell phones out, or completed any other various task that needed discipline. My lunch break finally came, in which I was able to sneak to the restroom to wash my hands, find my lunch, and return to my room before my student council girls arrived. I now had a peanut butter and jelly in one hand, and a calendar in the other as we decided on a day to carry out our next fundraiser, and talked about the months ahead. I spoke to them with food in my mouth like my mother always told me not to do. If you ask me, this is a perfect example of multi-tasking. I signed passes, wrote on the board for the next class, got out my attendance book, and answered a few quick texts before my 20 minute lunch "break" was over. In entered my period 5 class. Returning from the cafeteria must be like traveling through the desert during a wind storm because they are consistently late to class, parched, and in dire need to use the restroom. "No." "Not now." "You need to wait." "Maybe later." "Please sit down."
"But miiiiiissss." "But nothing."
The rest of the day continued in this pattern. Smiles were exchanged, cell phones were confiscated, notes were taken, nurse's passes were written, words were defined, e-mails were sent, minds were awoken, concepts were taught, (concepts were learned?) hands were high-fived, referrals were written, jokes were told, questions were asked, and stories were heard. Grammar was absolutely corrected.
When 2:40 hit and every last chair was up I dismissed these caged up animals back into the wild. I could breathe. I could sit down for a brief moment. I could also use the bathroom, grab some water, and wash my hands. I could finish taking attendance, collect a few papers, gather my notebook, and head to the meeting starting in 5 minutes. I headed down the hall to the meeting where I was greeted with supplies, lessons, and a Sex Health Education curriculum and survival kit to be used during the new 12 day course that we were teaching our students beginning on Monday. An English teacher teaching sex ed. Bring. It. On. Like I said, it's just a normal day!
It didn't stop there. When the meeting ended an hour later and the facilitators left, again the teachers got to talking. What did we notice about today, what's going on with this one, do you know what happened to that one? Endless worry and concern- and today, pride, as we learned two of our students were accepted to attend the World Summit of Peace Laureates Conference in South Africa in the fall.
We talked for a while and then I went to my classroom to finish up some things before heading down to watch a school play. One of the most dedicated seniors wrote her own play, created all the costumes, and set up the few props on stage. The staff had been promoting the Black History event for a week to our students, parents, and entire community. Minutes before the play was scheduled to begin, I looked around the auditorium. 30, maybe 35 people were there. At some high schools, the auditorium would have been filled, parents would have purchased flowers, dinner reservations would have already been made in order to celebrate their talented children. Not here. Many teachers stuck around to support the up and coming actors and actresses, singers and dancers, and as I looked around my heart broke as I noticed the abundance of empty seats.
The play was excellent! Even with minimal props and no microphones, the actors and actresses were talented and their dedication was quite obvious. It was a great way to learn even more about some of my students as I watched them in character and out of their element up under the hot lights. Dinner was supposed to be served at 6:30 but as usual something went wrong, orders were misplaced, credit cards were not used, and at 6pm the hard working secretaries learned their food was not coming. Panic mode set in as hungry families waited. Hungry families that counted on that meal. Hungry students who had been in school all day and hungry parents who were home from work or on a quick break, looking for a dependable source of fuel. My own exhaustion was starting to set in. My feet hurt from standing all day and moving around, running from meeting to meeting in between my six classes. My throat hurt from reading aloud all day, talking to the students and my own peers, and my stomach growled from lack of energy since my 10:40 lunch "break." I wanted coffee, dinner, and my bed.
But it was just a normal day. I adore my students and as they walk into my classroom every morning or afternoon, I smile. I welcome them with open arms to a place they can feel comfortable, safe, and home. They make me laugh on most days, and I most certainly count my own blessings. Despite the challenges and the defiance some of them display, deep down they are kids. They brighten my day. 14 hour days are common, giving up my Saturday mornings is a joy, I may not get a lunch break, the ability to go on a coffee break, or heck, even use the restroom when I need to, but at the end of every day as I crawl into my bed and say my prayers, I am grateful for my students, for what they teach me, for the daily challenges I face, and for a job that I simply love.
And I'm ready to do it all over again tomorrow.
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