Preparing to move on...

It seems as if I have been teaching for more than a semester. The routine of teaching everyday for the last semester has made me feel as if I have been doing it my entire life, perhaps this is because I am feeling all my hard work and patience to get to this point has paid off. I can finally call myself a teacher knowing that I have reached a place where that label doesn't sound strange, but befitting of who I am still striving to grow as...a professional, a teacher, a colleague, and a mentor. Beginning this semester, I didn't expect to have developed so many wonderful relationships with students, fellow colleagues, and the faculty I encounter daily. However, I feel continually blessed to have had such a fantastic group of people to begin my teaching career with.

My student teaching experience is coming to an end now and I am finding it difficult everyday to not think to myself, "This could be my last (fill in the blank) with my students." Having the group of students, the cooperating teacher, and other faculty around me this semester at my school, I have developed a strong connection with each person. My students have been asking for a few weeks now as to when I am leaving. They are interested in what my future holds, several of which hoping I will follow them to their high school to teach them in English 9. Several of the teachers here have also been helpful in seeking avenues outside teaching to help me develop more as a professional, offering advice when interviewing, providing information regarding free professional development opportunities, and overall, advice for when I am hired. The community I have found here has fulfilled not only my educational goals, but my personal goals as well. My students have taught me how to be a better human being, cheesy perhaps or even a bit cliche. Yet, they have.

 I am starting to think about what the future brings, if my next school or next group of students will be as wonderful as my current school.

The last few weeks have been difficult with my students because we are currently doing a 1930s Great Depression unit. However, we focus more on the thematic elements of the texts. My students and I have examined the power words can have, the power language gives each of us and how we should use this power we all possess. Yet, we have also examined justice and fairness. We constantly ask "What is justice?" or "How do we measure fairness?" As I have these conversations with my students, I think about how a teacher needs to constantly evaluate the need of fairness and justice in their classroom. It is my belief that one's classroom needs "No Exception" rulings while at the same time having fairness based upon the circumstances at hand.

As I prepare to leave my student teaching, I find myself considering what I have learned as teacher. I know I am much better at preparing lessons, maintaining the busy work and constant grading, but I feel I have learned more about how teachers do effect students. Constantly saying teachers impact the future youth is true, but until you have an "Aha" moment with a student where an impact is made....they are just words. Until you see how a student can grasp the potential you see they have, accepting the skills you can help them develop, you don't realize just how much you matter in their lives. My students have given me several opportunities to see how smart, determined, and overall incredible they can be....the only thing I wonder is how to we get them to maintain these qualities all the time. It is then I remember the words of Taylor Mali.

What Teachers Make

by Taylor Mali
www.taylormali.com

He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:

if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?

 Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.

And then I make them read.

I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.

I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.

I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference! What about you?