I have an interesting life...the life of a sixth grade teacher. I see students who are extraordinarily gifted at annoying everyone they come into contact with. I watch kids change from fearing cooties to chasing cuties. I watch students move through one of the most awkward times of life and into the most boring time of life (adulthood...in case you were wondering). I get to experience students learning to deal with the ups and downs of moving from childhood to adulthood. It is rewarding and tiring, a joy and a frustration. It is good honest work.
Sometimes I get to laugh. For example, the other day I was asking trivia questions at the end of class. One of the questions was, "What planets in our solar system have no moons?"
One girl jumped up (she was so excited) and blurted out, "Earth and..."
I cut her off with my infectious laugh (I have started taking medication for it).
"What is so funny?" she demanded.
"You said Earth!" I gasped between fits of laughter. "You live on Earth. I bet you have seen the Moon!"
Sometimes you laugh longer than a teacher should. It eases the tension that you develop over days and weeks and months and years of students testing every ounce of patience that you have. This was one of those times. I laughed as the students left the room. I laughed as the next class came in. They thought I was crazy. Of course, they had already been thinking that for months.
Sometimes teachers get rewarded in unusual ways. I remember one student in particular who struggled. He struggled with poverty, struggled to make friends, struggled to do his assignments, struggled to fit in. I worked with him. After months I finally was able to connect with him in a meaningful way. He started to do his work in my class. One day he came in with a big smile on his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out half of a stick of gum. "This is for you!" he said with a big smile.
It was before Covid, but after the time that accepting half of a stick of gum was normal. Still, it seemed to me that it was very important to accept this slightly dirty, possibly bit in half treat. Without breaking my smile I popped it in my mouth.
"Thanks," I said...and I meant it.
The young man's face beamed. It was if we had become more than blood brothers. We were gum chums. At that moment the work of breaking through was more than repaid.
That is what you get from teaching. There are lows and highs and mind-numbing in-betweens...and every once in a while you get the moments that jump start your heart into loving the profession once again.
ReplyDeleteThat was a moonshot.
You do good work.