I’ve been off this week. Today, it seems to be coming to a head and I just want to sit and cry. There’s nothing in particular wrong, no reason to cry. I was thinking that this was just one of those bouts with depression that sneak up on me every now and then and that just has to be lived through, but it’s hanging on, and it’s heavy, and I was starting to slump under the weight when I realized what the trouble was.
There’s only 12 days of school left.
No, I’m not sad to see the year end. I love summer break. What’s bothering me, what bothers me at this time every year, is a sense of failure. I wasn’t fully the teacher I wanted to be. I’ve never fully been the teacher I want to be.
There are the kids I never completely connected with, the kids I wished I had approached differently. There are readers I feel like could have made more progress toward reaching grade level if I had worked with them differently. There are mathematicians I feel like I should have focused on more. There are science lessons I would have organized differently, and software I would have liked to have used more effectively. I have a dozen writing lessons I would have liked to have given, a dozen more I’d like to give differently. There are still many books in my class “to read” pile that I could never fit into the last 12 days.
Too much this time of year I look at all the mistakes, all the missed opportunities, all the lack. In some ways, it’s good. I reflect on what worked and what didn’t and start making plans to do better next year. And every year I’ve improved in some way.
But the negativity is too much this year. And it’s weird because I had a super great class of kids, worked with a fabulous team, finished a CAGS in Reading with one of my favorite colleagues, participated in civic action to improve public education, and even started writing again. By all accounts, it was a great year, and that’s not even including all the wonderful days with my family.
Maybe, because it felt like such a good year and yet I still see students that are not where I wish they were academically that I really feel the sting of failure.
Today, for example. Today did not go as planned. The chemical reaction I planned as part of Science Stations wasn’t quite as dramatic as I had hoped. Mikey and Jose got mad at something in Music class and they were in a fiery state when I came to pick them up. And Chrissy was in tears when we were lining up after lunch.
But also today: Ivan, who had a very bad, no good, rotten sort of day yesterday started out this morning by telling me he was going to do his work today. And he did. He had a fantastic day. And the group of kids in that disappointing station gave good ideas for improving it for the next group (and Ivan told me it was super cool anyway). And Jose took the long way back to class from Music so he could calm down and Mikey gave himself a time out to get back on track. And so many caring classmates came over to help with Chrissy’s problem that we were able to come up with a solution in short order.
Mikey is still not able to independently apply his understanding of multiplication and division to new problems. But at the beginning of the year, there is no way he would have been able to get control of his strong emotions so quickly. That’s progress.
Chrissy still struggles to write in organized sentences, But the social worker was worried that Chrissy wasn’t making connections with other students at all. Her peer groups with the social worker and carefully chosen work partners in class has really helped.
Ivan has yet to complete a writing assignment this school year. But, a month ago, his rotten day would have colored his entire week. Today, he worked on his historical fiction story for twenty minutes. No, it’s nowhere near done, but there’s progress.
If I just look at Mikey’s Math test scores or Ivan’s writing portfolio, I can convince myself that I failed. But if I look at things a little differently, I can see their growth.
I still want to find better ways to conference with students about their writing to push them to the next level. I want to craft better mini-lessons designed to get students reflective about their own work. I want to . . . there is a long list of what I want to do differently next year. But writing about today, writing about the progress in these uniquely brilliant student has improved my mood, improved my outlook.
Not all the Science Stations went as planned, but the kids at the Glow Stick station were able to explain the conversion of chemical energy to light energy. So, there’s that.
I’m not perfect. I wasn’t a perfect teacher this year. My students aren’t perfect either. But we’re all working on getting better.
The Corner Classroom 