My "Ah-Ha" moment

I am finding that teaching is a lot like parenting. First of all, it is an art. There are some general guidelines, but every teacher has his or her own style. Second, and more importantly though, it is a field in which all people are exposed and in which most will regularly critique. I will be the first to admit that I have looked down on plenty of parents and teachers who didn’t measure up to my standards.

In fact, we are all likely guilty of judging the frazzled mother of a screaming toddler as she desperately pleads and compromises with her unruly child while bribing him with a piece of candy if he will simply behave long enough for her to get through the checkout line at the grocery store.

“My child will never act like that” I would always say with confidence, “because I would handle that situation so much better.”

Since becoming a mother however, I have come to realize that despite my best intentions, I don’t always handle every situation the way I had once anticipated. In the same way, I am quickly learning that I don’t have all the answers to every situation a teacher encounters in the classroom.

I have to admit that I initially took this position because I knew that it would look good on my resume and help me in my quest to secure a teaching position within the next year. I entered the classroom confident that I could successfully do anything I put my mind to and that I could certainly do a better job than those “other” teachers I’ve seen.

I’ve spent hours planning out objectives, preparing my assessment, and then designing my lessons so I don’t fall into the trap of giving busy work like those “other” teachers do. I comment, grade and record all assignments within 24 hours of them being turned in. I dress professionally. I come in early and stay late. I do my job the best I can.

But they’re still not learning. They still don’t care. They still act out. They still question my authority and disrespect me.

What more do they want from me? I’ve sacrificed time with my family and friends for a low-paying substitute job with no benefits! Don’t they realize I’m worthy of their respect?

NO MICHELLE! THEY DON’T! BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T SHOWN THAT YOU CARE ABOUT THEM! THIS HAS ALL BEEN ABOUT YOU! It’s about your resume, your time, your sacrifice, your dedication, your foot in the door.

Guilty.

What was I thinking? I’ve never embraced them as “my students.” Instead, I’ve distanced myself from them and the other teachers because this is just a stepping stone for me.

Did I really think they couldn’t see through that? They don’t care how much time I spend on the lessons or how much curriculum I cover in the 12 weeks I’m with them. They won’t likely remember my well-thought out demonstrations or my timely grading practices. In fact, if I don’t care about them, I will just become yet another adult who has stepped in and out of their lives.

They need adults who care about them – not ones that are using them to get where they need to be. I am guilty of being the latter. I vow to become the former.