Reflection

When I think about writing about teaching, I always envision myself writing about coming to my classroom an hour early and sitting at my desk as I gather my thoughts for that day. This is not my reality. The bell for first block rings at 7:55 a.m. My reality is screeching into my parking spot around 7:51 a.m., grabbing my banana from my passenger seat, throwing my bag over my shoulder, and rushing to my room in hopes of getting there before my line of students. I am a good teacher; I'd be a better one if school started at 10 a.m.

Often, I start the day with crumbs on my shirt and dabs of moisturizer showing on my face. It's okay. My heart's in the right place.

When I think of these haphazard mornings, I often am reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses, "[God's mercies] are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). You see, God's mercies are new every morning; teenagers' mercies are not.

I wholeheartedly believe that more than my students wanting a teacher who arrives hours before the first bell and has copies neatly stacked and ready to go and never encounters a dilemma while using technology, they want a teacher who cares about them. They want to be taught by someone who listens, by someone who empathizes, and by someone who believes.

Typically, with teenagers, you get one shot. If you can't prove to them on Day One that they matter to you, you've lost them for good. Why should we expect any differently? Most of us are that way after all. Take my husband, for instance. He likes you until you give him a reason not to. After that, while he'll forgive you, liking you is forever out of his mindset.

As teachers, we prove ourselves on Day One. We walk into the classroom (or sprint to it, in my case), and we put our hearts on our sleeves, showing students that we teach because we care for them. If we can't do this, we lose many students for good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not foolishly believing that all students get on board with us and love us unconditionally from that first day, but the truth of the matter is that if we lose them on that day, it's hard to ever get them back.

Because we teach students who really just do not have it in them to greet us with new mercies each morning, we have to be that person. If Johnny had a bad day yesterday and sent us home in tears, it's our job (or our calling) to come in the next day, ready to help him through whatever made him act that way.

Our mercies must be forever new.

Introduction

I am a fifth-year teacher at a small rural high school in South Carolina. I mostly teach 11th grade English, some Advanced Composition, and Yearbook Production. My philosophy of education is the same as most teachers as I believe that every child can learn given the right environment and the right tools. However, I also believe that we must prepare children for the futures they realistically face. Once they leave us, they will move out to a society where Thomas Friedman believes "the world is flat." They will compete for jobs with people from all over the world, and it is our responsibility to help prepare them for this inevitable future.

I believe that teaching must first begin with two things: passion and concern. We must have passion for our profession and for our content, but we must be concerned for our students and their well-being. If you find yourself in this profession and realize you are missing those two things, replan your life. Teaching is not for you.

Teaching is hard and grueling work, but in five years, I have found that there is nothing more rewarding. (No, I don't have my own kids yet, so you naysayers rest assured that, in my life, this is the most rewarding venture I've found.)

Teaching requires heart and patience, dedication and resilience. Without these traits, you will either burn-out or blow-up, and neither makes for a pretty situation. In that sense, however, teaching is not always pretty. Teaching is knowing what kids go through at home, and teaching is wanting, with your whole heart, to be able to adopt every one who isn't treated like the special person he or she is.

Teaching is about wanting to make a difference every single day, but teaching is also about sitting back and being willing to learn. I learn something new from my students every single day, and regardless of meeting AYP or getting into college, there are students who have taught me more than I could have ever dreamed of teaching them.

I teach because it's what I know and it's what I love. When I think about the future, I can't picture myself outside of the four walls of my classroom. It's just where I belong.

Oh Saturday...

My sweet, patient husband and I slept in until 10:47 this morning. I feel horrible when I do that because I feel like I've wasted so much of my day. My momma always says my body wouldn't let me sleep that long if it didn't really need it. I hope she's right. I do feel slightly better today after battling two weeks of ickyness.

I'm still feeling overwhelmed by life, and really, by yearbook. This too shall pass, I guess.

I began this post last Saturday (2/11), and I'm just getting back to it now. I'm thinking that says a lot about how my days have gone.

This past week, I got to go to the SC Teacher of the Year Winter Workshop, and I left feeling rejuvenated and immensely proud of my profession. As the National Teacher of the Year, Michelle Shearer, said, "There are 47,000 teachers in public schools in South Carolina, and every single one of them could be doing something else. Teaching is a choice that we make to impact the future." My only wish as I left the beach on Friday was that every teacher could experience that workshop and be reminded of why they started down this path and why teachers matter so much.

Settlin' In

It's cold. Who knew? Yesterday, my husband and I strolled around the neighborhood while I wore flip-flops and capris and joked about getting a tan. It was only a partial joke as I really think I could have had some serious bronzing going on. Today, it's cold and rainy and our heat is running again. Global warming is no joke.

I'm currently trying to get in the mindset to read 20 papers on topics my students value. These are personal supported opinion essays where each student picks a topic about which he or she is passionate and then supports his or her opinion with research. I'm hoping some of them will be fun. Praying, is probably more accurate.

Speaking of praying, I've been spending my 20-minute trek to school in prayer and worship. It honestly seems like the absolute best start I could have to a day. This morning, I was listening to my David Crowder Band Church Music cd, and my favorite song touched my heart in the perfect way. Know that this song always moves me, but not in quite the way it did today...



Isn't it amazing that God would be jealous for someone like me? That love is amazing, and I am so unworthy...yet so very honored and grateful.

Anticipation

As a teacher, I have tomorrow off from school in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. I'm a huge fan of MLK, but I prefer his wife. While he did a great job of getting civil rights started, she kept the fire burning all those years after his death. That takes/took amazing courage.

Anyway, on Tuesday, I get three new groups of students. One class is made up mostly of kids I've taught before, so I'm ready for those; the other two groups are brand new to me. Something about that makes me nervous. I'm ready for some new challenges, but I'm so accustomed to the students I've had for the past 90 days. They are unique in their own ways, and I will miss them terribly.

Really, the start of second semester is like a whole new year for me. New syllabi, new lesson plans, new kids...and it is nerve-wracking. Typically, there are two nights a school year when I know I just won't be able to sleep. One is the night before school starts, and the other is the night before second semester.

If you think about it on Monday, after you've celebrated the courage and amazing integrity of MLK, Jr. and his wife, say a prayer for me that these students will be gems...even if they do take a little polishing.

Teaching

My profession has been heavy on my heart lately for a variety of reasons. For one, I am in the middle of writing up my responses to the Teacher of the Year questions. One of the first questions asks why I became a teacher. I'm supposed to write two double-spaced pages, but I can sum up my response in much less than that. I am a big believer that I didn't choose teaching, but instead, it chose me. Some are called to study law, some are called into medicine, and I was called to teach; it is as much a part of my DNA as my eye color. I honestly consider it one of the most honorable professions in the world. Sure, there are jobs I could work and get paid much more money or have much more prestige, but I'd rather sit in my classroom and shape the lives of young adults over money and titles any day of the week.

Last night in my graduate class, one of my fellow classmates (and a teacher) shared with our little 618 family that this would be her last year teaching. She's not retiring and hasn't been laid off. After three years, she's just decided teaching is not for her. I am devastated to say the very least. I've seen her presentations in class, heard her talk about her students with such passion, and now I feel like our field is losing something great. Denise Hildreth-Jones, one of my favorite Christian speakers, is also a novelist. She often tells the story of how she never believed she could be a writer until someone told her that she needed to write a book. Her response was, "I don't write," and the person said, "Yeah, you do." After publishing several novels, she tells this story to reference the power other people have to call us into our destinies. I wholeheartedly believe that teaching is mine.

When I was a little girl, I often had to be my sister's student while she played school. I desperately wanted to grow up and have either a younger sibling or a classroom of my own so I could teach real people instead of stuffed animals. My parents assured me a classroom would be the more likely of the two. I remember racing in the door from kindergarten, eager to teach my daddy the letter "J" and all the j-words we had learned that day. A love for learning had ignited even then, and it has continued to grow.

Are there bad days in teaching? Sure, there are. Do I often leave school at 5:00 exhausted and lugging home a night's worth of work to grade? Of course. Sure, I'd like a job that allows my day to end when I leave my place of employment, and there are days I'd practically kill for a decent lunch instead of whatever the cafeteria staff has dreamed up. But at the end of each and every day, there is nothing I'd rather do than teach. It is who I am.

Me with one of my favorite students on her happy graduation day.