Teach Like Me

When I was younger, I would line up my stuff animals and dolls to play "school".  As my younger brother got old enough, there were a few times where I coercised for him to sit in my "classroom".  There are people who say they knew from the very youngest of ages that they were going to be a teacher - my journey is a bit different with a few detours and lane changes along the way.  I think about those detours and lane changes in the world we currently live in where it is beyond common to get asked "why do you teach?" or "are you still going to teach next year?"  Somewhere along the way, society has deemed this career as one that anyone with credentials and sense would not choose.

I would say that I didn't choose teaching, that it chose me.  As today marks National Teacher Appreciation Day, I think about all the educators who have made a difference for me along the way and how much of an impact they have in room 29.  In a world where educators are drowning in paperwork, I often think about the things that made a difference for me.

In Kindergarten, I was the quiet, shy, introverted girl who parents were going through a divorce.  Every day at recess, I would stay within range of the teacher and on most occasions be strikingly close.  Looking back, I probably annoyed the living daylights out of her.  Beyond any of the lessons, centers, or books that were read aloud that year - I remember the safety that she created when I didn't always get shooed away like a burden.  For a child going through a major life change in family dynamics and the transition of starting school, the quiet recess moments were a game changer.

Throughout school, the teachers who made a lasting impact on me were the ones who understood that I was an introvert but that I had contributions to make and found ways to push me beyond letting me be the silent wall flower in class.  As much as I hate public speaking (I still do!), if you gave me a book to read and let me be creative in how I presented the material to the class, I thrived.  I loved book reports!  Junior year in High School, I had an English professor who made us memorize a poem and get up in front of the entire class to read it.  I thought I was going to die.  In a class full of mostly jocks, I got up there, nerves and all, and cited Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.  I think of that moment, sweaty palms and nerves, every time Frost is referenced in a movie, book, or conversation and look back on it with satisfaction for stepping outside the box and excelling.

In college, a semester before graduation when I was in my capstone class, I was given a group project and was struggling with the dynamics of the group.  I went to the professor and remember being beyond frustrated that she would not fix the situation.  At one point, she said you will have great opportunities to reflect on your experience when you write your capstone paper.  I remember giving her an earful through the written words of the paper and her feedback at the end of the semester was that I am sure this experience will benefit you in your future endeavors with colleagues and families.  I remember the grade but I think about her every time that a situation does not go the way I want it too, amid the struggles.  She taught my cohort all about Piaget and Vygotsky and how learning best occurs through disequilibrium and looking back, I am amazed at how she intentionally set the stage for learning in even the smallest of ways within assigning the dynamics of my group.  Without a doubt, I think she was purposeful in knowing that I had figured out the curriculum, planning, and the other stuff would come easily but that what I needed most from that experience was working with others in a professional manner.  I have lost count of the number of times the learning dynamics of that situation come to mind in real life.  

I find myself continually wanting to encompass pieces of the educators who made a difference with me into the educator I am and continuing to become.  Here's the absolute best part of teaching - those moments never end.  The learning curve is steep but so are the opportunities to encounter other people who will inspire, challenge, and steer your course.  So today, and always, I am thankful for the educators who understand the quiet introverts, the ones who know exactly what a child needs, whether it be socially, emotionally, and or academically, and have the highest expectations.  

“I’ve come to a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or dehumanized.” 

― Haim G. Ginott