running to stand still (subtitled: diary of a first year teacher)

“ms. humm, mr. johnston’s games were more educational than yours.” i hate my job. “ms. humm, thanks for the lesson!” i love my job. blank stares, but they won’t ask questions when I plead (really, beg) for any questions. i hate my job. “ms. humm, will you teach us next year? we learn and enjoy (enjoy = have fun in woodstock vernacular) in your class.” i love my job. i spent all of sunday learning about french government. and i am still confused. i hate my job. i spent all of sunday learning. i love my job. i made a powerpoint of renaissance paintings and we discussed art for a whole class. even the kids who never raise their hands. i love my job.

looking back, i was kind of an asshole in middle school. not to all teachers… just to a select few. i still remember our sixth grade music teacher, ms. gubberud, running out of the room in tears. i also recall some of us feeling some sort of pride. now i feel an extreme sense of karmic guilt (no one has ever made me cry, but i could imagine the sort of day such a thing could occur).

the dichotomy between love and hate for teaching is constant. and feeling generally unqualified to teach four relatively new subjects is a continual battle. are the kids learning anything? are they having fun (maybe not a question i should care about, but I do)? if i don’t understand, who can I ask? this is boring… how can i make it exciting, or at least interesting? what does a good multiple choice question look like? and the ever present, how can i make this better in the future? sometimes i want to scream, i have no idea! i read the same textbook as you! but that can’t be a daily crutch. it’s like treading water… and treading water… and treading water until you know it must be making you stronger. or at least you hope so. either that or i’m crazy to do this to myself.

ultimately, i have learned more about life than anything else. parker palmer always speaks about teaching who you are. beth sent this great quote from the courage to teach,

“i am a teacher at heart, and there are moments in the classroom when i can hardly hold the joy. when my students and i discover uncharted territory to explore, when the pathway out of a thicket opens up before us, when our experience is illuminated by the lightning-life of the mind—then teaching is the finest work i know.

but at other moments, the classroom is so lifeless or painful or confused—and i am so powerless to do anything about it—that my claim to be a teacher seems to be a transparent sham… teaching, like any truly human activity, emerges from one’s inwardness, for better or worse. as i teach, i project the condition of my soul onto my students, my subject, and our way or being together. the entanglements i experience in the classroom are often no more or less than the convolutions of my inner life. viewed from this angle, teaching holds a mirror to the soul. if i am willing to look in that mirror and not run from what i see, i have a chance to gain self-knowledge—and knowing myself is as crucial to good teaching as knowing my students and my subject.”

way to sum it up, parker.