"To just be you."

I was once again eating a Dove chocolate today – I’m forcing myself to eat them as soon as possible, as I just joined a gym this weekend (I’m telling you, it’s REALLY torturous). The quote today said, “Give yourself permission to just be you.” I thought it was rather amusing that I got this quote today of all days. This has likely been one of my hardest days as a teacher. It wasn’t necessarily because of the kids (even though they were far from perfect). It was the fact that I absolutely abhorred my teaching today – I hated the lessons I created, I hated my delivery, and I’m pretty sure that if I was a student in my class today I would have an extremely difficult time enjoying myself as well. As a teacher, you are supposed to be able to accept these days as a natural part of the process, learn from your mistakes, and move on. Essentially, it’s letting yourself “just be you” as a teacher. Yet how can I accept this truth when my students have barely any sympathy for mistakes? Instead of showing compassion at a person’s weakest moments, they see it as an opportunity for domination. Instead of cutting me a break, they knock me down. When I last checked, being me entails not being perfect in the slightest sense, especially when it comes to how I run my classroom. In this teaching environment, then, how can I possibly be comfortable giving myself permission to be me when my students obviously do not accept that as enough?

"...hanging on after others let go."

I’ll be honest – as much as I have been trying to adopt healthier eating habits, my addiction to chocolate is one problem that I have yet to completely fix. Yes, I may have decreased how much I eat of the delicious confection, but I definitely cannot get through one day of school without something sweet in my system. So today, a handful of mini Dove pieces was the chocolate of my choosing. They’re a particularly favorite option because they are both delectable and inspiring with the cute little quotes on the wrappers. Some of them are corny, but others are actually worth reading. The one I got today seemed particularly fitting: “Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.”

Now I took this quote in two different ways. One could interpret it to mean that the ones who succeed are the ones who keep pushing after all others have been struck down. This truth is incredibly apparent in a school like mine. If you observe the number of teachers who are seasoned vets versus the ones who are new, the ratio leans drastically towards the latter. However, those few who hang on and stay longer receive much more respect in the classroom, and more respect equates to a great deal of success with their teaching. The more immediately relatable interpretation, however, is the idea that success is achieved by those who hang on even after they’re left to fight the battles alone. In the past couple of weeks, I have felt incredibly alone in my struggles to make it through my days of teaching. I don’t have many people I see often outside of school, and the colleagues I do speak to are jaded and all-around negative right now about teaching. Essentially, if I want to have a successful life right now, I can only rely on myself. Others have let go of me; it’s up to me to stay hanging.

I can only hope that someone will be there to help me back up if I fall.

"If you expect respect..."

Once again, it’s been a while since I last blogged. Let’s recap a little:

Number of times my schedule has changed: 2…or was it 3…

Number of fights broken out in my room: 3

Number of times I have heard “I hate this class”: Infinity plus one

Number of “I hate this class” comments that I knew were untrue but still did not enjoy hearing: that same infinity plus one

Number of tears cried: Too many to count

Number of smiles: Not enough for my liking

I know it’s not the most enlightening list. But as I stated in my last post, this month hasn’t been the easiest. There have been days when I’ve come home so incredibly frustrated because I was not able to actually teach, I could not properly manage my classroom, I had to make way too many phone calls home, and on several occasions I ended up feeling absolutely worthless.

I’ll be honest – there were a couple of days in these past couple weeks where I let myself wallow in the pain of teaching failure. Luckily, however, I was able to brush myself off (or at least brush off enough to get me by) and address my issues from a more logical stance. I asked my mentors for help and advice, I went to professional development meetings, and I brainstormed as much as possible. In the end, I came to several extremely important conclusions. First, I reminded myself that this is a highly intimidating setting for a first-year teacher and that I have never done this before. Second, not only is this a learning process for me, it’s also a process for my students. They are dealing with a hefty amount of change – new procedures, new teachers, new curriculums, and now music class for the first time in forever – and dealing with change for anyone can give a major shock to your system. Third, I realized (with a small bit of shame) that I was not holding myself to the same standards to which I attempt to hold my kids. While observing one of the best substitute teachers that works at our school, I asked her just how she gets these kids to listen to her and actually enjoy her teaching. She simply stated, “I show them the respect they want to see. They won’t give you respect unless they see that you will show them respect – that’s simple human nature.” At that moment, I felt completely ridiculous for not figuring this out earlier. I even have a poster on my wall that I refer to with my kids: “If you expect respect, be the first to show it.” It was MY responsibility to be the first to show respect. And it’s not that I don’t respect my kids – it’s simply that I have gotten so caught up in the frustration of keeping them in line that I have neglected to treat them like people. Instead of trying to mend bridges with my children, I was essentially adding oil to the flames and hoping the bridges wouldn’t burn.

A friend asked me yesterday if I thought I would stay in this job longer than a year. I honestly don’t know how I will feel about my position once my contract ends, and it is impossible for me to predict my future decisions at this point in the game. Nevertheless, I have now convinced myself that I must not leave these kids until I am sure that our bridges have been rebuilt and will remain stabilized for years to come in their education.

"Life is like a piano..."

My second month at school did not start out on the best foot. I didn’t even know if I had the heart to post a really hopeful entry today, but isn’t it only being honest of me to write about my high points AND my low points? My day simply felt like a slew of out-of-control classes. I literally got no teaching done, and it seemed like none of the disciplining tactics I tried worked. I had kids laugh in my face, claim they “never heard” me or “didn’t remember” that I had said something, or completely ignore that I was talking to them. This is the first day that I have experienced this much disrespect from so many classes in a row. The kids may be crazy because they just got the new Spanish teacher this week, but that doesn’t mean they can treat my class like a free-for-all too. By the end of the day, I could barely get into my car before I had an emotional breakdown and started bawling my eyes out. It was the first day that I really contemplated whether or not this was what I should be doing with my career.

However, I will say that a hopeful moment happened today when I got home and decided to look through one of my music supplies magazines. It was a catalog of cheesy gifts and classroom items, and it got my mind off of things. In it I found a musical pillow with the quote, “Life is like a piano – what you get out of it depends on how you play it.” It got me thinking about the many times I broke down at the piano because of my horribly disappointing practice sessions. But once I got past my feelings of self-loathing, I balanced my emotions, had more successful practice sessions, and in time my playing improved. This is what will get me up and going back to school tomorrow.