Only Rainbows After Rain
I wanted to quit my job in October. I wanted to walk away from teaching and declare that it was far too challenging for me to continue my career. I brainstormed other career options, talked to people in different fields, and decided maybe this wasn't the job I thought it was. I've quit a few things in my life; playing the flute, playing softball, and running outdoor track in high school. Except for those few instances, I've never voluntarily said "I quit" to anything else in my life. I've been someone who will stick it out, keep an open mind, and cross the finish line, even if I was in last place.
But in the fall, I wanted to up and leave, quit and walk away.
I had a fantastically hard working team of teachers around me, I had some strong admins, and I had, technically, landed my "dream job" only two years prior. Would I regret leaving? Would I care?
The disrespect I was dealt on a daily basis would make anyone want to walk away. Or fight back. The disrespect I was witnessing from teen to teen was shocking and made me wonder how anyone in 9th grade created relationships with anyone else. They all seemed so hard-headed, jaded, and unbreakable. They had a sense of entitlement that some silly English teacher could never undo. The life stories these kids carry around contain situations and experiences I can't even imagine dealing with, let alone actually dealing with in my real life. Being a teenager is challenging as it is, but the burdens on top of the every day teenage stress is at times unfathomable. These kids have been to hell and back and it made them a little less than pleasant.
As a teacher, I don't just interact with students every day and then move on. As a teacher I learn a lot about my students and their lives, and I see the raw emotion and true personality of who they are. I've seen them cry, get frustrated, break down, laugh, and grow. I have seen friendships blossom between them that remind me of my own friendships in high school. Teaching is a profession that goes far beyond the books and lessons and desks and classrooms. Teaching comes from the heart and requires a lot more patience, love, and toughness on my part than I could have ever imagined.
It was that patience and toughness that I had to hold on to and carry with me every single day. I had to learn to let things go and not take anything personally. I had to realize that they were experiencing things at age 14 that I've never experienced, and if they took their stress out on me or came to me for help, I could not leave them. That's where I would remind myself they did not have very many constants in their lives, one of which is love. I had to love them. I could fight them, I could try to break their shells, or I could just give them love. I learned that I could not just up and quit and leave these students at yet another crossroad in their young lives. I had to take every bit of strength, passion, patience, toughness, peace, and love with me to the classroom every day, and tell myself I was not a quitter.
Somehow, fall turned to winter and despite a long, tough season of snow, it finally melted and gave way to green grass and warm sunshine. Somewhere in these last few weeks of spring, I have rediscovered how much I adore being a teacher. I realized how fun learning can be, and figured out that if I practiced kindness, I might eventually be treated kindly. I remembered why I went to school to become a teacher and why I decided Hartford was where I wanted to teach.
I think my students have also realized that I'm still here, that they are still here, and that we are all in this together. They may have even realized that we don't make school rules for the sole purpose of making their lives miserable. They may have discovered that school isn't all that bad, that learning can be so interesting, and that they aren't quite the invincible teens they once thought they were. They have grown up in ways that make me proud. They have showed me that they can, in fact, be happy. Just last week I had one of the best classes of the year. I found myself smiling as I paused, looked around at each student, and realized they were all doing their work, following directions, working hard, and getting along. That sight is very rare, and one that I will cherish.
With the end of the school year suddenly approaching, I now find myself constantly reflecting on how much they have matured and grown up. They have truly spread their wings. I see the good in them and I see their potential. Inside room 307 we have built up trust, grades have improved, we've laughed, cried, and yelled, and it's dawned on me that I never want to walk away. I never want to quit on these students. I want to watch these students continue to improve, go on job interviews, volunteer in their community, get dressed up and go to the prom, build friendships and relationships, grow, graduate, enter the real world, and above all, I want to see these students fly.
But in the fall, I wanted to up and leave, quit and walk away.
I had a fantastically hard working team of teachers around me, I had some strong admins, and I had, technically, landed my "dream job" only two years prior. Would I regret leaving? Would I care?
The disrespect I was dealt on a daily basis would make anyone want to walk away. Or fight back. The disrespect I was witnessing from teen to teen was shocking and made me wonder how anyone in 9th grade created relationships with anyone else. They all seemed so hard-headed, jaded, and unbreakable. They had a sense of entitlement that some silly English teacher could never undo. The life stories these kids carry around contain situations and experiences I can't even imagine dealing with, let alone actually dealing with in my real life. Being a teenager is challenging as it is, but the burdens on top of the every day teenage stress is at times unfathomable. These kids have been to hell and back and it made them a little less than pleasant.
As a teacher, I don't just interact with students every day and then move on. As a teacher I learn a lot about my students and their lives, and I see the raw emotion and true personality of who they are. I've seen them cry, get frustrated, break down, laugh, and grow. I have seen friendships blossom between them that remind me of my own friendships in high school. Teaching is a profession that goes far beyond the books and lessons and desks and classrooms. Teaching comes from the heart and requires a lot more patience, love, and toughness on my part than I could have ever imagined.
It was that patience and toughness that I had to hold on to and carry with me every single day. I had to learn to let things go and not take anything personally. I had to realize that they were experiencing things at age 14 that I've never experienced, and if they took their stress out on me or came to me for help, I could not leave them. That's where I would remind myself they did not have very many constants in their lives, one of which is love. I had to love them. I could fight them, I could try to break their shells, or I could just give them love. I learned that I could not just up and quit and leave these students at yet another crossroad in their young lives. I had to take every bit of strength, passion, patience, toughness, peace, and love with me to the classroom every day, and tell myself I was not a quitter.
Somehow, fall turned to winter and despite a long, tough season of snow, it finally melted and gave way to green grass and warm sunshine. Somewhere in these last few weeks of spring, I have rediscovered how much I adore being a teacher. I realized how fun learning can be, and figured out that if I practiced kindness, I might eventually be treated kindly. I remembered why I went to school to become a teacher and why I decided Hartford was where I wanted to teach.
I think my students have also realized that I'm still here, that they are still here, and that we are all in this together. They may have even realized that we don't make school rules for the sole purpose of making their lives miserable. They may have discovered that school isn't all that bad, that learning can be so interesting, and that they aren't quite the invincible teens they once thought they were. They have grown up in ways that make me proud. They have showed me that they can, in fact, be happy. Just last week I had one of the best classes of the year. I found myself smiling as I paused, looked around at each student, and realized they were all doing their work, following directions, working hard, and getting along. That sight is very rare, and one that I will cherish.
With the end of the school year suddenly approaching, I now find myself constantly reflecting on how much they have matured and grown up. They have truly spread their wings. I see the good in them and I see their potential. Inside room 307 we have built up trust, grades have improved, we've laughed, cried, and yelled, and it's dawned on me that I never want to walk away. I never want to quit on these students. I want to watch these students continue to improve, go on job interviews, volunteer in their community, get dressed up and go to the prom, build friendships and relationships, grow, graduate, enter the real world, and above all, I want to see these students fly.
"Only rainbows, after rain, the sun will always come again, and it's a circle, circling."
Teaching is such a noble profession.
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