Reflections

Six years ago, I left the only school I’d ever taught at and went to teach at a new school across the city. This new school had different terms of engagement, different expectations for students and teachers, different policies and routines. I went from being a veteran teacher with a lot of confidence, to feeling like I had no idea how to interact with students. 

At my new school, we weren’t allowed to sit in a circle for Morning Meeting, give first graders math workbooks, or administer individual reading assessments. We weren’t encouraged to provide differentiated reading choices, only the basal reader. I felt like all of the teaching tools I had acquired during my first seven years of teaching had been yanked away from me. As things got more difficult, I doubled down. I worked harder to re-create the systems I’d used in the past, to make my new classroom feel familiar, and to urge my administration to reconsider their policies. I started putting in even more hours than I typically did (which was a lot.) I went in early, left late, worked constantly at home. 

I lost count of how many times
I put this library back together.

My goal up to that point, had been to move into leadership within a year or two. During those first few months, I thought constantly about how I could excel in this teaching environment, while every challenge and set-back made me question if I was cut out for teaching or administration at all.  I was miserable and confused. I cried a lot. I truly believed, or wanted to believe, that if I put in more time and more effort, that things would get easier, but they didn’t. In fact, they got harder, and more things started to change: my co-teacher was pulled from classroom, my roster was switched, and I got less frequent support. By the middle of fall, I was exhausted and sick, looking at new jobs and new careers. 

Miraculously, I was pulled out of that situation by a call from my former school that a sudden vacancy had opened up in the fourth grade. I’d only ever taught early elementary, and the thought of working with older students made me nervous, but I barely had to think twice about accepting. I needed out. 

Day 1 in my first fourth grade classroom. 

In January, I started teaching fourth grade. It wasn’t easy, but this time, I didn’t let it consume me. I stopped focusing on the future. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in fourth grade, or in teaching, but I decided I could survive until the end of the year. I stopped worrying about re-creating my old classroom environment; after all, this was a new grade for me. I didn’t assume I knew everything. Instead, I tried to pay attention to what worked and didn’t work with the kids in front of me. I didn’t try to innovate much with the curriculum, since I was only ever a few days ahead in my planning. I kept things simple. 

I continued to put in a lot of hours, but I also read, baked, and visited friends on the weekends. I started to re-prioritize my physical and emotional health. I let myself believe that I could get better, and I did. By the end of that year, I’d decided to stay in fourth grade for another year to continue learning and improving. 

One of my favorite student notes EVER.

In hindsight, I can see that one of the reasons I struggled so much at the new school was because I couldn’t let go of the way I had done things in the past. I didn’t think I could improve unless I was allowed to do things my old way. I knew that my way was better. It took me a long time to realize, however, that I hadn’t just been trying to hold on to a familiar way of teaching.

During the same time I was switching schools, I was also experiencing significant changes in my personal life. I’d moved out of the city and an apartment I loved, away from my friends and neighborhood. Looking back, I still believe that my way of teaching could have been better for me and my students at the new school, but now I wonder if that would have been enough for me. I wasn’t just trying to make my new classroom feel comfortable and familiar, I was trying to make my new life feel comfortable and familiar. 

The past four weeks have been some of the most challenging of my teaching career. I’ve been miserable and confused, I’ve cried a lot, and I’ve been letting it consume me. I’ve been struggling to try to make this new way of teaching (all virtual) feel like the old, familiar way. I've been putting in more hours than I have in a long time. But recently I realized, even if I could re-create my old classroom online (or in person), even if I could go back to the way I’ve taught and assessed students in the past, it wouldn’t be enough. 

Three devices now feels like a minimum.

Moving to a new house and a new school in the same year is not the same as teaching during a global pandemic, but the parallels aren't lost on me.  Working from home, in a makeshift office, with political unrest and the coronavirus always in the back of our minds, our personal lives as teachers are completely changed. No amount of “consistent routines” or “innovative lessons” will be enough to make this year feel comfortable and familiar. 

So instead, I’ve decided to stop focusing on the future. I don’t know if I want to stay in teaching like this, but I believe I can survive until the end of the year. I’m not going to worry about re-creating my old classroom environment; after all, this is new for me. I won’t assume I know everything.  Instead, I’m going to pay attention to what works and doesn’t work with the kids in front of me.  I'll remind myself of my own words from years ago, “beyond a point, another hour of lesson planning at 11pm, or spending another weekend rearranging the classroom yet again, or reading another article on behavior management techniques, won't ‘solve everything.’”

During my first year of teaching, my roommate would ask me to name 3 good things each day. Some days it was a challenge to come up with that many. It all seemed impossible. Yet, over time, it got easier to focus on the good moments. I have never taught virtually before, or in a hybrid environment, or through a global pandemic, but I have been a first-year teacher, and a teacher in a new grade, on a new team, and in a new school. I've had days when teaching has come as naturally as breathing and many more days when it has felt like it sapped all my energy, and then some. These days, teaching online seems impossible, but I'm trying to name 3 good things each day. Some days it may be a challenge to come up with that many, but I'll celebrate the days when I can.

Getting Ready for Middle School

A few weeks ago, our fourth grade team had the opportunity to visit our local feeder middle school. Even though our elementary school goes to fifth grade, we often have families who start looking at private and charter middle schools beginning in fourth grade, so this trip served to raise interest among the kiddos in attending the public middle school. (As part of an urban district, increased enrollment in the school feeder path benefits both the elementary and middle schools.)

The school did a wonderful job welcoming us!  The principal had a powerpoint with information about the school's academic and extracurricular offerings, achievement and behavior expectations, and tips for the kiddos about preparing for middle school. The fourth graders were all ears! They sat up straight, raised their hands, and took careful notes. It was so cute to watch them snap to attention when the middle school principal taught them his call and response.

After a brief introduction, we got to go on tours led by "Middle School Ambassadors" -- including a few former students of mine!  The kiddos had to tuck in their shirts and bring clipboards along to take notes. We got to stand in the back of classrooms and observe some 7th and 8th grade classes.  The kiddos had to record the name of the teacher and class and note the objective for each lesson in their notes packet. They did such a great job -- walking proudly and quietly in the hallways, listening to all of the teachers, even trying to participate in some of the classes!

Obviously a trip like this isn't going to make our fourth graders suddenly turn in their homework on time, stay on task without reminders, or keep their binders organized... but it's great to be able to remind them of what they are working toward! This trip was also a great reminder for me that even though we are departmentalized and expect a lot of our kiddos, they are still just 9- and 10-year-olds. Especially compared to the 8th graders, our kiddos are still little guys who need lots of handholding, hugs, and encouragement.  While we work to prepare them for what's next, we have to keep in mind what they need right now.

At the end of our trip, all of the kiddos got some "middle school swag" on their way out the door. They could not have been more excited! 💙

Teaching On Stage

Teaching is often compared to other service professions -- like nurses and clergy -- and there are certainly similarities there.  Teachers work for the public (i.e. our students and their families). The results of our work are largely intangible, and while it can be very rewarding, it's often thankless work as well.  I've been thinking recently, though, about a different comparison I heard a few years ago. In many ways, the career most similar to teaching is acting.

Fourth grader teaching her Pre-K Book Buddy!

The preparation teachers go through before a lesson is similar to actors learning their lines.  We study and rehearse to ensure that we can deliver a teaching point precisely or present a math skill clearly.  We then perform our lessons for a critical audience and have to be ready to accept their feedback and tweak our performance for future lessons, innovating while teaching the same standard.  Like actors, we are often seen only as our final performance -- and most people never even know about the the hours of research for the role, the rehearsals, the costume adjustments, the staging, or the last minute script changes.

Like an actor in a play, teachers try to build a genuine connection with our audience while portraying a character. Stage actors, like teachers, have families, histories, and issues that they bring into their role. While this background makes us into the performers that we are, sometimes our personal lives don't mesh with our role.  I have days when I'm emotional or exhausted, yet when I step in front of my kiddos, I'm "on stage" -- I need to smile, speak calmly, and focus on the content I'm teaching, regardless of what's been happening behind the scenes.

I'm often reminded of this comparison when I'm overwhelmed by working late, stressful morning meetings, or personal issues.  The reality is that all teachers have good days and bad days, and children they click with and those they don't.  Being a "responsive teacher" means knowing that my students and I will all have days we don't feel like working our hardest or doing our best. It means knowing that my students' families and experiences are as important and inextricable from them, as mine are from me. I hope that, like a stage performer, my vulnerability, honesty, and life experience shine through in my performance and ultimately make me someone who my audience (students and parents) trusts, appreciates, and supports.