Teaching
Living in the Hyphen
I’ve been teaching full time-ish since March 5th, teaching the persuasive spoken word unit that I created and refined with my mentor’s help. And honestly? I’m so tired. I don't know how I’m going to do this day in day out next year.
I haven’t taught my whole unit completely on my own. My mentor taught the first lesson because I was away on a required Calvin conference, and then a week later I left again to go to the Cs. But it’s my baby which I’ve been nursing since early February when a student off-handedly said, “Do you do spoken word?” and I laid in bed later that night and thought, “No, but you all could.” My baby who has grown and morphed from a perfect planned square garden to a community patch that has grown over all the seed markers and turned into a beautiful and frightening jungle, and I the frazzled and harried coordinator who wishes she could schedule the sunshine and the rain.*
There have been so many positives. Students who haven’t liked me taking over have kept mostly to themselves about it, and I’ve gotten a few comments from students asking if I’ll teach at the school next year. I talked with a student at lunch about Marissa Meyer’s Renegades series (which I have a lot of thoughts about), and then the next day she picked up the conversation again as if a day hadn’t passed. I got to hear a couple student poems as they presented (voluntarily!) in front of their classmates, putting their words and their thoughts out there for all to see. The staff has been really inclusive with me, and my mentor teacher has been supportive when wanted and hands-off when needed. My observations with Calvin professors have been nothing but constructively positive. I’ve really started to feel like I can see myself as a teacher.
But the other half of my title, the “student” part, is giving me some trouble. Every week I feel like I’m situating myself more and more in the classroom, and then something will happen that makes everything seem to fall down around me. Missing three days and jumping back in with little idea of where the students are. Days where students blatantly decide that the work time I’m giving them is their own time to waste. Lessons that I can’t seem to go right. Students who are shut off from me and refuse my questions. Uncertainty in my status in the eyes of a parent or administrator. Classes where I feel simultaneously frustrated at being treated like a student and others acting like students and then not being able to answer the questions or ask the questions I want to ask.
Being a student is being self-centered, especially in college. I’ve been in that mindset and culture for the last three years, and I would argue I had that self-centeredness as far back as middle school. There is something to be said about a community of learners (which I did participate in and as a professional would like to strive towards), but in the capitalist ranking culture of the United States being a student means making choices that benefit your own learning first and foremost. But being a teacher? It requires a lot of selflessness to give every ounce of your energy and time (and I mean every ounce.) to students when in school and when at home too. I’ve realized that I’m constantly on to make decisions and look out for the interests of my students and the school culture rather than my own. If a teacher is selfish, that means they aren’t doing what’s best for the students because what’s best for the students requires a heck of a lot of work.
I’m in the hyphen of student-teacher—I’m bouncing between these poles of selfishness and selflessness. I spent all day serving students and talking to them and planning around them, but when I’m alone, I’m consumed with thoughts of how I can do better, can be better, can plan better, can communicate better. It’s been pointed out to me that even though I’m focusing on me, that focus is for the good of the students, but that doesn’t make me feel any less selfish when all I can think to talk about is “This lesson went really well! This student won’t stop talking. I have to grade 5 papers today or I’m going to be behind. I’ve got to go to bed or I won’t get my 8 hours in.” Maybe I’m being hard on myself or dramatic, but I’m struggling in owning my identity as a teacher when I’m just not one yet, no matter how desperately I want to be.
I know these decisions that exhaust me now will become easier. I’ll find the grooves for lesson planning and thinking on my feet and then will be able to focus more on tailoring ideas more specifically to students. I know I will learn how to teach; I just wish I wouldn’t have to dissect my heart before I can confidently give its pieces to someone else.
I have one recommendation for you (maybe I’ve learned how to conclude my thoughts and I don’t need this section anymore—huh): Zooniverse. It’s a website where you can do some simple(-ish) tasks and help real researchers complete their research. For me, it’s possibly the most dangerous thing on the Internet I’ve found because it allows me to complete tasks quickly, which makes me feel good, and I know it is actually helped someone get something done. I’m a fan of the “Decoding Punch Cards” (all about WWI YCMA volunteers—who knew??) and the “Etch a Cell” projects, but you should check out some more.
*My proofreading brain is screaming that this is a fragment, but I can’t bring myself to care.
I haven’t taught my whole unit completely on my own. My mentor taught the first lesson because I was away on a required Calvin conference, and then a week later I left again to go to the Cs. But it’s my baby which I’ve been nursing since early February when a student off-handedly said, “Do you do spoken word?” and I laid in bed later that night and thought, “No, but you all could.” My baby who has grown and morphed from a perfect planned square garden to a community patch that has grown over all the seed markers and turned into a beautiful and frightening jungle, and I the frazzled and harried coordinator who wishes she could schedule the sunshine and the rain.*
There have been so many positives. Students who haven’t liked me taking over have kept mostly to themselves about it, and I’ve gotten a few comments from students asking if I’ll teach at the school next year. I talked with a student at lunch about Marissa Meyer’s Renegades series (which I have a lot of thoughts about), and then the next day she picked up the conversation again as if a day hadn’t passed. I got to hear a couple student poems as they presented (voluntarily!) in front of their classmates, putting their words and their thoughts out there for all to see. The staff has been really inclusive with me, and my mentor teacher has been supportive when wanted and hands-off when needed. My observations with Calvin professors have been nothing but constructively positive. I’ve really started to feel like I can see myself as a teacher.
But the other half of my title, the “student” part, is giving me some trouble. Every week I feel like I’m situating myself more and more in the classroom, and then something will happen that makes everything seem to fall down around me. Missing three days and jumping back in with little idea of where the students are. Days where students blatantly decide that the work time I’m giving them is their own time to waste. Lessons that I can’t seem to go right. Students who are shut off from me and refuse my questions. Uncertainty in my status in the eyes of a parent or administrator. Classes where I feel simultaneously frustrated at being treated like a student and others acting like students and then not being able to answer the questions or ask the questions I want to ask.
Being a student is being self-centered, especially in college. I’ve been in that mindset and culture for the last three years, and I would argue I had that self-centeredness as far back as middle school. There is something to be said about a community of learners (which I did participate in and as a professional would like to strive towards), but in the capitalist ranking culture of the United States being a student means making choices that benefit your own learning first and foremost. But being a teacher? It requires a lot of selflessness to give every ounce of your energy and time (and I mean every ounce.) to students when in school and when at home too. I’ve realized that I’m constantly on to make decisions and look out for the interests of my students and the school culture rather than my own. If a teacher is selfish, that means they aren’t doing what’s best for the students because what’s best for the students requires a heck of a lot of work.
I’m in the hyphen of student-teacher—I’m bouncing between these poles of selfishness and selflessness. I spent all day serving students and talking to them and planning around them, but when I’m alone, I’m consumed with thoughts of how I can do better, can be better, can plan better, can communicate better. It’s been pointed out to me that even though I’m focusing on me, that focus is for the good of the students, but that doesn’t make me feel any less selfish when all I can think to talk about is “This lesson went really well! This student won’t stop talking. I have to grade 5 papers today or I’m going to be behind. I’ve got to go to bed or I won’t get my 8 hours in.” Maybe I’m being hard on myself or dramatic, but I’m struggling in owning my identity as a teacher when I’m just not one yet, no matter how desperately I want to be.
I know these decisions that exhaust me now will become easier. I’ll find the grooves for lesson planning and thinking on my feet and then will be able to focus more on tailoring ideas more specifically to students. I know I will learn how to teach; I just wish I wouldn’t have to dissect my heart before I can confidently give its pieces to someone else.
I have one recommendation for you (maybe I’ve learned how to conclude my thoughts and I don’t need this section anymore—huh): Zooniverse. It’s a website where you can do some simple(-ish) tasks and help real researchers complete their research. For me, it’s possibly the most dangerous thing on the Internet I’ve found because it allows me to complete tasks quickly, which makes me feel good, and I know it is actually helped someone get something done. I’m a fan of the “Decoding Punch Cards” (all about WWI YCMA volunteers—who knew??) and the “Etch a Cell” projects, but you should check out some more.
*My proofreading brain is screaming that this is a fragment, but I can’t bring myself to care.
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