Year Four

Clearly I have really made this blog a priority.

Well, instead of running down the list of excuses I have for not writing here (all legit, by the way), I'll just pretend that writing a new post today is just another regular day in the life of Teacher True. (But can I just say--I sure do miss writing).

Year four. Yes, that's right. YEAR FOUR.

Where did the time go??? Oh, I can tell you where it went:

It went to about 750 teenagers whose faces I will never forget about whose names I will somewhat remember.

It went to about 50,000 assignment, quiz, or test scores I have entered into my gradebook.

It went to about 6,200 hours (or about 260 24-hour days) of not getting to focus on me, my life outside of school, or anything outside of teaching that makes me happy.

It went to countless amounts of stress, anxiety, tears, frustration, anger, and feelings like I was not doing enough. But, it also went to hundreds (maybe even thousands) of little passing moments that made me smile, or made me proud, or grateful, or appreciative, or that made my heart just truly and utterly happy.

It's easy for me today to slow down and pause long enough to take a moment to reflect, because I took a sick day. Personally I think we should call these "Wellness Days," but that wouldn't really change the way I use them. One a semester as a self-declared 'Mental Health Day' and the rest as needed. Today was honestly both. I am a little sick, but I am also completely and entirely run-down. I needed to listen to myself and my body and honestly, I am proud of myself that I did just that.

Naturally I still worked for about 2.5-3 hours grading homework and quizzes, and doing my Progress Reports, but that's okay! Because in all honesty, I actually love my work. I love grading because my mind is always so curious as to how my students did on their assignments and where they are making their mistakes--I get so excited for them when they do well! I love lesson planning because I absolutely love the creativity that is required to come up with a lesson that may be only 10% true to what I envisioned, but by golly somehow it all still kind of worked. I never thought of myself as a creative person until I started teaching--really it's creativity (and resourcefulness) by necessity, but I am often the kind of person that needs a little push to let things like that out of me. I love meeting the parents of my students at Back to School Night and conferences. I love the constant buzz of a school setting. I love that high school students are in this weird world between childhood and independence. I love when one day they show you their childish-teenage-drama-filled side, and the next day their independent-almost-as-responsible-as-an-adult side. I love the little family I have with my colleagues, even though we rarely get to spend time together because everyone is too busy being a teacher. I love when I do get to spend time with them--if even just a few moments--because nobody gets it but us. And I love--I mean, absolutely LOVE--the kids at my school. They come from all corners of the world and speak languages that are so obscure I have to Google a new language every year. They are goofy and serious and sweet and kind and respectful and annoyingly frustrating all at the same time.

So yes, the past 3+ years have worn me in. And yes, people are probably right when they tell me I should find a new job. But when I peel back all the stress and anxiety and exhaustion, being a teacher at my school is the best damn thing I could ever do. I may not last much longer, it's true, but it won't be for a lack of trying or a lack of love.

Nobody Tells You

Nobody can prepare you for how hard it will be. Nobody tells you that you will face ten highs and ten lows all in a day's time--or an hour's time. Nobody tells you that you will feel clueless about at least one thing at least once a day, because there's just that many new things that happen in a teacher's life. Nobody will admit that it's harder than you think to constantly be bombarded by requests, favors, questions, and complaints. Nobody tells you how alone you will feel, how feelings of incompetence will creep up on you when you least expect it and you will suddenly find yourself doubting that you will ever be half as good as the good teachers out there. Nobody tells you how heavy you feel when you start learning your students' stories and carrying their emotional burdens, too. Nobody prepares you for all the unsolicited support you won't get from other teachers and staff.

Nobody can truly paint the picture that is teaching. Nobody can do it for you, until you do it for you and you find out all the truths, and then some.

Going in to this week, the fifth week of my second semester of my first year of teaching high school math, I had already reached what I would consider my biggest slump of the year. It's not that I was more stressed than I had been throughout the year, or more over-worked, or more behind (because let's be honest, I'm always behind on something). Thursday (and then Friday) was the very first day all year that I had, just for a few moments, thoughts about how I didn't want to go into 'work' that day. Up until now, I had never felt that. I've had days of not feeling ready for the day, or being tired, or stressed, but never a day where I woke up thinking "I don't wanna!" Last weekend was the first weekend I have felt so much anxiety about it all. So, needless to say, I hit a wall, or a slump, or a rut--whatever the appropriate name is for what I have been feeling the past few weeks.

And then, on top of all my first-year teacher woes, the following happened across the span of four days:

Today, a student seemed unusually lethargic and when I asked him if he was okay, he told me that his grandmother died unexpectedly last night.

I found out a student is pregnant.

I found out one of my students tried to kill himself three times last year.

I found out another student has made several attempts on her life and showed me cuts on her arm (oh, and she's transitioning from a bad foster parent situation to a new one and I don't even know where she's living right now).

I found out a student has PTSD from domestic violence he witnessed as a youth, and ended up spending ample time in a residential treatment facility.

I found out today that a student (whom I don't know well because she was just transferred to my class) was diagnosed six weeks ago with a brain tumor and has a 90% chance of dying within a year.

Nobody prepares you for any of this.