education
THOSE KIDS:  I Wasn’t A Very Good Teacher

THOSE KIDS: I Wasn’t A Very Good Teacher

On Friday, I wasn’t a hero or an inspiration or the teacher changing lives and making a difference.  I didn’t do my best.  I didn’t walk the words I talk.  I didn’t meet my own expectations. I let the emotions take control.  I let outside factors and problems into my classroom.  Bottom line.  I wasn’t a very good teacher.

20191001_2107357098631530948389975.jpgThey were doing exactly what one would expect THOSE KIDS to do on a Friday.  They were restless.  They were feeding off each other.  They were loud and disrespectful and becoming more dysregulated by the moment.  There were cuss words.  The big ones.  They were directed at each other.  They were directed at me.  They weren’t complying.  They weren’t even pretending to actually.  It was not a good day.

I know these kids.  I know when they tell me they don’t care what they are really saying is they are afraid to care because the last time they did they were let down.  They were also let down the time before that and before that and before that.  I know when they tell me school is stupid and worthless it’s because they feel stupid.  School has been hard for them.  Learning isn’t something they do well.  Why put in the effort when it’s never enough?   I know that when they lash out at me it really has nothing to do with me.  It’s directed at me but it’s not about me. It’s an inability to cope.  To deal.  To handle how they feel.  They can’t do better because they haven’t been taught better.  I know that when they try to walk out of my classroom or say things to get removed it’s not because they want to leave.  It’s because they want to know if I will follow.

20191001_2108026616968169612600323.jpgEven though I knew these things, the entire week had been a struggle.  The dynamic of the class had changed. New and more challenging students had joined our group.  It had not been easy to establish routines and expectations. On that day, however, I also carried in my own frustrations and problems to my classroom.  Legitimate concerns and problems and things I should have been frustrated about, but very little that had to do with them.  I was distracted.  So when they weren’t listening to my requests and they were cursing and agitated and stirring each other up, I did just what they expected.  I got angry and I got stern and I got louder.  I gave ultimatums and I drew lines in the sand with them.  In the short-term they complied.  They were shocked.  They weren’t used to seeing that from me, but gradually the talking starting again and then the disruptions and then we were right back where we started.  We survived that day.  We didn’t learn.  We didn’t grow.  We didn’t get better.  We survived.

So now I sit and I plan for Monday.  I can’t go back and change Friday.  I can’t go back and do better.  So now I have to do what I ask them to do.  I have to own it.  I have to be accountable. I have to figure out what I learned.  I’m going to walk into that classroom and I’m going to apologize.  I am going to tell them I am sorry the classroom felt unsettled and unstructured last week. I’m going to admit I don’t have the answers, but I 20191002_0725155574363900305843152.jpgwould like them to help me find those solutions.  I am going to tell them I need them.  I need their help. I need us to figure out how to make our class work.  I am going to say that I wasn’t my best me.  I didn’t like the way I taught.  I will admit that wasn’t fair to them.  I’m going to tell them it wasn’t about them but it ended up being directed at them.  I’m going to ask them to work with me. To support me.  To help me. To forgive me.

I am going to hope that my moment of weakness, of struggle, can become a lesson for them.  Maybe I taught them that I’m not above them or better than them.  Maybe they feel that I am with them.  That we are in this together.  That we can figure it out together.  That I won’t ask more of them than I am willing to give myself.  Maybe they won’t feel so much shame they next time they struggle or misbehave or have to own their actions.  Maybe they will realize just how brave it is to say I’m sorry or I was wrong 20191001_2106183367424846686003538.jpgor I could do better.   Maybe they will learn that mistakes are where we learn.  It’s how we figure out a better way.  Maybe they will see we are all human – a little awesome, a little flawed, a little unique, and a little complicated all mixed in to one.  I don’t know.  Maybe.