Last year was tough, to say the least. I had 2 children in my class for most of the year with severe behavior issues. And I'm not complaining--every teacher has their fair share of this. The "special education masters degree" part of my mind wants these children to be in the classroom. It wants to help them and teach them and guide them. It wants to provide them with the supports they need to be successful learners and successful in life. But it isn't easy.
At the beginning of last year, as I realized what I was facing, there was another part of my mind that was sad. One of the things I love about teaching 1st grade is the excitement. The enthusiasm. The laughter and smiles. I feed these things to the kids and they feed them right back to me at an amplified degree. So I was sad, because I realized that for the year, I had to tame the enthusiasm, tame the smiles, tame the laughter and the moments of controlled learning chaos. For a year, I had to become "serious teacher." Few smiles, no jokes, and not nearly enough enthusiasm.
Last year, going to work every day was hard. I opened the door of the classroom, took a deep breath, and powered through the day in the best way I knew how. I gave my all in the best way I could. Last year was the ultimate test of my patience level. I can tell you with full confidence that I have more patience than I ever thought could exist (when it comes to kids...daily adult life is another story). Then at the end of the day, I was drained of energy. I couldn't think. I couldn't put any effort into thinking about the next day, let alone planning it. Instead, I tried to think about my next run. Or my next blog post. Or the next thing I'd pile on my plate in an effort to distract myself from the difficulties of my job.
Then, slowly throughout the year, all the things I really loved about teaching drifted away to the back of my mind. Because I didn't get to see or do much of what I really loved. Because, in all the effort of trying the best I could to keep control and prevent outbursts while also trying to provide quality instruction, I forgot about the fun things. I felt like a bad teacher. I felt like I wasn't doing my best, even though I was trying harder than I'd ever tried. I felt discouraged and frustrated and sad.
Then those feelings carried over into this year, because it had become my world and I forgot there was more. That sinking feeling in my stomach that I used to get, it continued. Until this week.
I've been spending the last month with my kids relearning why I love teaching so much. I remembered that I really do get excited about teaching, and that it isn't just an acting gig. I remembered that 6-year-olds are little kids who love to laugh and love to learn. And what's even better, I feel like I'm really getting to know my kids again. Last year, I got to know 2 kids really well. And kind of knew the others. But this year, just a month into the school year, I've learned so much about all of them. I've learned what subjects they really love, what motivates them, what they struggle with, what kinds of things they love, and what kinds of things they hate (apparently ALL 6-year-olds hate radishes...every single one).
I love teaching first grade, because when you make a mistake, there's no one better to laugh at your mistakes with you than first graders.
I love teaching first grade because they want to learn. They want to do well. They want to be the best they can be.
They want to love you. And they want you to love them. And you do, because you can't help it.
And so, when you are a first grade teacher, sometimes you catch yourself smiling several times throughout the day simply without realizing it. And then you smile again, because you realize you are accidentally smiling. And an accidental smile is the truest smile there is.
No comments:
Post a Comment