The Quiet Moments

I love this time of year in education!  Not necessarily because the sun is shining (although warm is nice), but because I start to see the positive relationships with and between members of my classroom strengthen and mold.  As I like to say, teenagers “become snuggly” towards their teacher once a connection is firmly established.  Now I don’t mean that they like hugs and want you to read them fairy tales (although they still want to be read to!).  They simply develop a connection to their teacher and want to do well because they know someone believes in them.  As a classroom teacher, I am privileged to have the flexibility and space to choose how I connect with my kids and what values I will emphasize during the course of each year.  Will I emphasize honesty or integrity?  Or will I emphasize friendship and loyalty?  The truth is, not only do I focus on the classroom community dynamic within the classroom, I try to emphasize qualities based on what each of my students need. 

Teachers pay attention to what a child is lacking in their lives, or to what they are struggling to learn, and they focus on creating lessons that help.  These lessons may, from time to time, put students out of their comfort zone.  In being there, they may blame someone else (even the teacher), for putting them there.  While they grow, they gripe.  While they want to say, “I hate being held accountable for my actions,” they actually say, “My teacher is mean to me.”  While they want to say, “My teacher makes me complete all of my homework,” they actually say, “I hate you.”  While they want to say, “I’m scared to connect with you because I have been let down by important people in my life,” they actually say, “Get away from me – I don’t want to talk to you.”  Within the same breath, young people will blame someone else for “making” them grow. 

With all of this verbal abuse, one might think teachers end every school day in tears.  But this is what makes teaching so special.  When others run away, punish, and accuse students of being crafty, cruel, and crass, a teacher doesn’t give up.  A teacher listens, considers the elements, and helps find solutions.  By the end of each diligent year, stronger, more confident, relaxed, happier children emerge. 

Two springs ago, a friend and colleague of mine came into my classroom to visit on the last day of school.  This classroom had been a challenge for both of us – for me as a classroom teacher and for her a Resource Specialist.  We had extensively collaborated throughout the year to support several students who had IEPs and Behavior Plans.  This year, we had adapted and accommodated for individuals who were mainstreamed but who were extremely challenged.  Eleven children struggled with one or more of the following diagnoses:  ADHD, Tourette Syndrome, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, absent parents, transience, gypsy parents, depression, molestation, neglect, poverty, drug use, violence towards others, and a victim of a sexually violent past.

In addition to these childhood atrocities, this was the year where two-thirds of my class either enrolled after the school year started or left before the year was over. A revolving door.  Our school, like many others, felt the effects of budget cuts to services.  Where there had been a Vice Principal the year before, the school could provide none.  Where the school provided a counseling service previously, this system no longer existed.  Within the first two weeks after thumbing through the cumulative files of my kids, I went to the Principal.  I asked, begged really, to receive guidance and support in dealing with the challenges that came with such a needy, diverse group of kids.  I was given cassette tapes and asked to attend training.  I took what I could get.  Over the next nine months, I attended trainings, I documented everything.  I called parents, met with parents, visited homes, and differentiated like crazy.  I nearly drowned that year, but I didn’t.  I had colleagues and friends who helped keep me nourished.  Nourished enough to be solid for the kids.

When my colleague walked in to our classroom party at the end of the year, she was flabbergasted.  Before she came to mine, she had walked into other classrooms where kids were climbing over others, yelling to each other, and throwing their garbage everywhere.  In my class, students were grouped together having lively conversations.  They had smiles on their faces.  Joyful music played as we all signed classroom yearbooks.  Students were serving up food to others, including my colleague.  She later told me that she could not believe that these same students.  These were the ones who had caused many students and staff members so much anguish; they, who could not handle being around others.  And at this culminating moment, they enjoyed being in the company of both peers and adults!  Busy and joyful, they did not want to be reminiscing about the school year with anyone else.

This same day, a parent visited the classroom to pick up her child.  She wanted to talk to me in private, so that she wouldn’t embarrass her daughter (teenagers…).  Let’s call the parent Mom and the student Alexa.  Alexa struggled with bullying, aggression, anxiety, problems being accepted by peers, defiance towards adults, and depression throughout the year.  Mom said that Alexa was too embarrassed to tell me how she felt, so instead Mom would relay the message.  Mom said that Alexa came home everyday recalling something she had learned from me.  She always brought it up in regular conversation.  Whether it was a class lesson or a personal one, it was clear that her daughter became excited about learning.  Alexa told her mom that I was her favorite teacher.  As tears welled in her eyes, she added:  “You make me want to be a better mother to my child.”  I just about lost it. 

As an educator, these are the moments I eat up.  They are the quiet moments recognized.  Millions of these untold stories exist within our schools.  These invaluable connections between teachers, students, and parents continue to propel the hearts and minds of young people. 

To my teacher friends and colleagues:  The blaring negativity may sometimes seem to swallow your progress and positive intentions in one gulp.  But your efforts will not remain unnoticed.  They just aren’t being vocalized like you deserve.  You are valuable and you are appreciated.  Call me biased, but you are in the best profession to prove that one person can make a positive difference in the lives of many.