Tuesday, August 24, 2021

26 years

 The year I turned 25, I panicked. I had always thought that I would have my shit together at 25. That I'd have a career and a plan and I'd finally know what I was doing. Instead, I was waiting tables, bouncing between teaching jobs and sub jobs, trying to stay out of trouble but inadvertently blacklisting myself for "encouraging students to write letters to the school board." (Oops.)

It's been 2+ decades since my 25th birthday. The existential identity crisis hasn't passed yet. Today I started my 26th year of teaching. Do I know what I'm doing? Do I finally have my shit together? Will I manage to stay out of trouble this time? Do I have a plan? (Is is a good plan?)

The thing about teaching is that you will never, truly, be successful at your job. Kids will always fail, no matter how hard you try to reach them. Kids will always disengage, no matter how clever or creative or inspirational you try to be. There will always be a vocal parent or three who seem to drown out all of the support and make you feel like you are not only a terrible human being, but an awful teacher, systematically destroying kids' lives. 100 parents will be silent, 27 will be vocally supportive, and 3 will tear you down, and it will be those 3 who keep you up at night, questioning every professional decision you've ever made. 

The first day of school of year 26, I caught a train. By "caught," I mean, the train was stopped on the tracks, blocking the road, and I was 20some cars and 2 school buses on the wrong side of the tracks. After I made an 8 point turn and backtracked several miles to get around the train, finally headed in the right direction, a family of deer decided to be indecisive in crossing the road...should they go? should they stay? should some of them go and some of them stay? Several minutes and two more stoplights later, I finally was within a mile of school, in the mile-long traffic jam, backed up all the way up to the student parking lot. I skated into my classroom exactly 60 seconds before the final bell. And the year began. 

I'm not sure I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish today. Was I warm enough? Friendly? Approachable? Funny? Did I leave a good impression? (Was I a hot mess?) Did I inspire anyone? With anything? Will they be eager to return tomorrow?

Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash
26 years, and I still worry late at night (and all day long). Am I enough? Do I have what it takes? Will I be able to save this kid? Inspire that one? Challenge her? Comfort him? Support them? Truly connect?

Will I do enough?

26 years of teaching. Day 1 is in the books. Tomorrow is day 2.

I hope I have what it takes to truly make a difference.



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