So anxiety and depression keep me from doing a lot of things. In fact, as I recently figured out, though being a homebody/recluse/hermit shelters me from bad stuff, it also keeps me from the good stuff. I've been cocooning myself to feel better protected. Through therapy I have learned that because I didn't feel protected as a child, I learned to build an armor and protect myself. After the horrific experience I had with my last boss and "teammates," my armor was broken, and I no longer had the tools to rebuild it, so I retreated to safety, and refused to come out. We even moved cross-country because I needed to be that far away from the pain.
Then someone on a FB Live this morning said...
"A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for.”
In fact, ships are supposed to go out to sea, battle storms, and see new places. They are purposefully built with strong materials so that they can withstand the pressure of the waves that pound against them. Their decks are built and sealed so that water just slides off of them and does no damage. They don't hide in a shelter, in fact, they ARE a shelter that protects the people and cargo they transport.
WE are ships. I.AM.A.SHIP.
We need to believe that we are meant to get out into the world, to see new places, to try new things, and to withstand the crap people throw at us. My harbor has been safe these last 6 years, and though I am not quite ready to set out for open waters just yet, I'm starting to tool around in the marina. I am built of strong stuff, and though I had a hole and was taking on water, I am working on pumping all of that out and preparing to become sea-worthy once again. This time my sides will be that much stronger, my deck that much more protected, and my cargo safer than ever before. I will also be equipped to allow others to use my harbor, as I won't be needing it as much, which translates into being a better wife, friend, and daughter.
Monday, August 13, 2018
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Glee-peats
Have you ever been so sad about something, so connected to someone who leaves your life, that you can feel your heart actually hurt when you think about it? Just for a moment, you can actually feel it rise in your chest to take a heavy sigh before it settles back into place and the tears start?
The first time I felt that level of pain was the first time I had to take to Jason to the airport after he visited me in college. I remember driving away from the airport, and a plane flew over my car. I was sure it was his, and I felt it -- my heart was sobbing, and I felt terribly alone and sad. There was a longing with it that I knew wasn't going to be satisfied for months until I saw him again.
I felt the same way a handful of times since, usually as a result of a tremendous loss, but in the last few months I have felt it again.
I've been watching Glee while I work, specifically the last couple seasons, when one of the original members of the Glee club loses his sense of self. He doesn't know what he wants to do with his life, and his original plan didn't work the way he thought it would, so he questions everything. Long story short, he decides to go to college to become a teacher, and there are several scenes of other teachers reminiscing about what it means to teach and how it feels to connect with a class of kids.
Then I received a lovely card in the mail from one of my former students. She's in her third year in college, pursuing her dreams of being an actress. In the note she told me that she has also added a major in early education education, and that I impacted her life, as a teacher. Most of the time we don't really get to hear these things from former students, especially as an elementary level teacher, so when we do get that level of feedback, it makes a huge impact.
Anyway, all of this has contributed to some major decisions being made. It's been 5 years since I've been in a classroom. When people ask me why I left, I always explain that the politics of being a teacher are exhausting and you just can't teach anymore because you always have to worry about test scores and not always what's best for kids. However, there is another truth...
The last four years of my career were spent in the same school, the first three of which were working for someone who managed to make me doubt myself on a daily basis. She mistreated my closest friend (who, incidentally, is an amazingly gifted teacher), she created a hostile work environment by pitting teachers and other staff against each other, and she made it clear that the secretary and registrar of the school were the most important people there, even above the kids we worked with. To make matters worse, the final three years of my career were spent working with a teammate who was the single most manipulative, passive aggressive, mean girl I have ever met. A million times worse than Regina George. These two women contributed to my overall feelings of inadequacy, instability, and self-loathing. Those feelings have stayed with me all these years, no matter what happened, no matter who tried to tell me differently.
But then I felt it. About a month ago, watching Glee and hearing these fake teachers talk about impacting the lives of kids, I felt it. My heart rose into a heavy, deep sigh, and and the longing began. I wanted my own group of kids so badly that it hurt. My passion for education and doing what's best for kids has never wavered, not once, despite feeling like a failure.
And for the first time in 5 years, I actually considered going back.
The more I've considered it, the more I want it. I'm still terrified because after 5 years I feel like a new teacher all over again. But, I also have regained some confidence that I thought was gone forever. Yes, I made some mistakes in my career, and there are things I regret and kids I know I could have worked harder to help, but I also know there are kids like Ashley, who I did impact in a positive way, and there are more to come.
So this is all to say that although I will continue to make pretty things and have a shop, I am also going back to school for spring semester so that I can renew my Wisconsin teaching license and try to get back into a classroom next fall.
I hope that in a year I will be able to reclaim part of my identity that I have been missing and can no longer deny will always be part of me.
Teacher.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Growth
So....
Today I saw a post on Facebook by someone who visited my booth at a fair. She posted on a local "for sale" board that she is now making bracelets just like mine -- she's clearly gluing pre-made metal on to belts.
Once upon a time this would have really pissed me off. I would have ranted about it, maybe even contacted her about with a snarky remark, which would only have served to make me feel horrible later. Instead it served as a great reminder that I think every artist needs to hear sometimes...
First of all, it reminded me of how far I have come in my learning and my work. In the past I may have felt jealous or competitive about someone doing what I do, instead I feel like this is a sign to ramp up my game and take the next step in my jewelry. Instead of making the same stuff, I am designing new pieces, learning new processes, and really working on my style to create a signature look.
Second, I'm flattered that someone liked my work enough to try to duplicate it. She's clearly at the very beginning of doing what she does, but still, she liked what I made enough to decide to go purchase all the supplies to make them herself.
Last, and this is what I really want to impart on other artists... this other person deciding to duplicate what I do does not, in any way, detract from my work. She's not the competition, she's a member of the artist community now, and we actually have something in common that we could talk about were we to meet by chance. I'm not going to contact her, offer her advice, or anything like that, but I do applaud her and wish her well as she begins her own journey as an artist.
I know some folks who feel as if someone else ripped off their ideas for their own benefit. Here's the thing... I didn't invent bracelets. I didn't invent leather, soldering, recycling belts, etc. I simply took what was already out there and put my own spin on it, and now someone else is doing the same! The circle of art! :)
Today I saw a post on Facebook by someone who visited my booth at a fair. She posted on a local "for sale" board that she is now making bracelets just like mine -- she's clearly gluing pre-made metal on to belts.
Once upon a time this would have really pissed me off. I would have ranted about it, maybe even contacted her about with a snarky remark, which would only have served to make me feel horrible later. Instead it served as a great reminder that I think every artist needs to hear sometimes...
First of all, it reminded me of how far I have come in my learning and my work. In the past I may have felt jealous or competitive about someone doing what I do, instead I feel like this is a sign to ramp up my game and take the next step in my jewelry. Instead of making the same stuff, I am designing new pieces, learning new processes, and really working on my style to create a signature look.
Second, I'm flattered that someone liked my work enough to try to duplicate it. She's clearly at the very beginning of doing what she does, but still, she liked what I made enough to decide to go purchase all the supplies to make them herself.
Last, and this is what I really want to impart on other artists... this other person deciding to duplicate what I do does not, in any way, detract from my work. She's not the competition, she's a member of the artist community now, and we actually have something in common that we could talk about were we to meet by chance. I'm not going to contact her, offer her advice, or anything like that, but I do applaud her and wish her well as she begins her own journey as an artist.
I know some folks who feel as if someone else ripped off their ideas for their own benefit. Here's the thing... I didn't invent bracelets. I didn't invent leather, soldering, recycling belts, etc. I simply took what was already out there and put my own spin on it, and now someone else is doing the same! The circle of art! :)
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Guess Jeans and Benetton Sweaters
So a few days ago one of my Facebook friends wrote a post that was a blatant judgement on someone else, a stranger they witnessed in public, doing something that was quite mundane, but something that they would never do (apparently). They ended their post with "who does that?" The mundane thing in question was totally something I would do, given a similar situation. The funny part about it was that the person making the judgement gets judged on a daily basis based on the lifestyle they lead. She is confronted often, probably daily in social media, by people who think she is not only wrong, but damned to hell. That's pretty intense, and it was very much a pot/kettle moment to me.
Humans are very judgmental by nature. We feel entitled to our opinions, our preferences, and our statements, even going so far in America to protect them at the governmental level. I get it -- I mean, on a very basic level, when we judge someone else's preference as sub-par to our own, we feel more right, superior even. And when friends and family, whose approval we seek, actually validate our opinions, they become even more solidified. So we must be right, right?
Here's the thing... although choices help make life interesting, and differing opinions/preferences do the same, we often allow them to serve to both group us and separate us from one-another. Think of high school -- the ridiculous stuff that we allow to impact who we like and don't like... clothing labels, the kind of cars we drove (or didn't), music we listened to... and it continues today as adults, just on a different level.
What if we didn't judge one another's opinions, choices, preferences, etc? What if, even when someone made a monumentally bad choice (in our humble opinion), we gave them the benefit of the doubt that they are doing the best they could at any given moment? What if we truly did embrace and appreciate how different we all are, but how similar we all are, as well? What if we're just all here to love each other and be the best version of ourselves possible? Don't you think the world would be a very, very different place? I don't think this is pie in the sky, either. I really believe that this is a simple choice, and I've been trying to remind myself that if I am doing the best I can, others must be doing the same. It doesn't always work, but with simple things like other people's choices in terms of clothing, music, art, and the plethora of ways they choose to express themselves, why expend that energy?
Why try to find ways to tear each other down? There's plenty of room at the top for everyone.
Humans are very judgmental by nature. We feel entitled to our opinions, our preferences, and our statements, even going so far in America to protect them at the governmental level. I get it -- I mean, on a very basic level, when we judge someone else's preference as sub-par to our own, we feel more right, superior even. And when friends and family, whose approval we seek, actually validate our opinions, they become even more solidified. So we must be right, right?
Here's the thing... although choices help make life interesting, and differing opinions/preferences do the same, we often allow them to serve to both group us and separate us from one-another. Think of high school -- the ridiculous stuff that we allow to impact who we like and don't like... clothing labels, the kind of cars we drove (or didn't), music we listened to... and it continues today as adults, just on a different level.
What if we didn't judge one another's opinions, choices, preferences, etc? What if, even when someone made a monumentally bad choice (in our humble opinion), we gave them the benefit of the doubt that they are doing the best they could at any given moment? What if we truly did embrace and appreciate how different we all are, but how similar we all are, as well? What if we're just all here to love each other and be the best version of ourselves possible? Don't you think the world would be a very, very different place? I don't think this is pie in the sky, either. I really believe that this is a simple choice, and I've been trying to remind myself that if I am doing the best I can, others must be doing the same. It doesn't always work, but with simple things like other people's choices in terms of clothing, music, art, and the plethora of ways they choose to express themselves, why expend that energy?
Why try to find ways to tear each other down? There's plenty of room at the top for everyone.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Grab a beverage and sit a spell...
This is going to be long, so bear with me. I have a lot to say.
I want to begin by saying that this is not meant to be a tirade of excuses. The following are realizations that I have made about myself and why I am the way I am. I'm not asking for pity, just understanding. There's happy ending, I promise.
Being a good person is important to me. I have a strong need to be needed, to be remembered, to leave a legacy. In the last few years I have thought a lot about what I want people to say about me when I die. "She was a saint," isn't one of them, make no mistake. But I do what to be remembered as someone who gave back a lot... as someone who was a good teacher and wonderful friend. I want people to use words like "funny," and "caring," and "compassionate." This is the life that I want to build for myself, because I know that I am the one who needs to work to deserve those accolades. But it has been difficult to believe that I could ever be deserving of them.
I am an only child, ADHD, and an introvert. Until recently I didn't truly realize how all of that has impacted my life.
As an only child, I didn't have siblings to beat on me or that I had to learn to exist and share with. I grew up thinking everything was all about me because, well, it was! I was a well-behaved kid, but awkward in terms of making friends or playing with other kids because that was not the norm for me. I realize now that so much of what I did and said as a kid made me sound like a selfish, spoiled brat. I wasn't trying to be. None of what I did or said was maliciously thought out, it was all simply my honest reactions to the given stimuli or task. At family holidays that were spent with my grandfather's side, the next youngest person in attendance after me was my own mother! I was both mature for my age, and terribly immature because I didn't know how to act around other kids. I have felt awkward my entire life.
As I moved in to middle and high school, where girls become horrifyingly judgmental, mean, and competitive, it only got worse. Puberty brought with it big boobs earlier than pretty much anyone else, brand new insecurities, and crippling anxiety and depression. I know I was a selfish friend, but I didn't know any better. I was used to always getting what I wanted -- like listening to the music I liked, or watching the shows I liked without any siblings to give me grief about it. I always had my way, and came to believe that was what life was supposed to be like. I don't think I was selfish, honestly, because I was clueless about it. It just didn't occur to me to think about what others may have wanted, so I was bossy about play (to maximize the time I did have with other kids, I wanted to do what I couldn't do alone), vocally jealous and resentful in regards to what I didn't get to have, and always worried about what others thought of me because I wanted to be involved in everything. I know now that I lost some very good friends thanks to this behavior, all the way through college.
Being an only child also messed with my definition of the word "fair." To this day I have a tendency to be almost childlike with my black and white views. Everyone should get the exact same thing, the exact same amount, in the same amount of time. I was a child communist! I'm able to make out some shades of gray now, as an adult, but there are many areas where I am still all or nothing. I constantly have an internal struggle between being a true leader or just doing it myself, whatever "it" may be. My way may not be the right way, but at least it's something! But sometimes my way IS the right way. ;)
Being a fatherless child made me crave attention, connection, and approval. I found myself telling stories to create a better presentation of myself... someone that I saw as deserving of what I craved, because certainly I was not deserving as I was or am. That's what you do when seeking approval. I also employed what I call the Fat Girl Diversion Technique (aka "Make 'em laugh!"). If I make self-depricating jokes about myself, others will feel compelled to tell me that I am the opposite of those things in order to make me feel better. But, of course, I was smart enough to know that they would feel compelled to say these things, so they must have been said out of obligation and not because they were true.... which led me back to feeling badly about myself. Vicious circle.
The approval-seeker in me, ironically, never believes the good stuff. I have no problem, however, feeling like a terrible let-down of a human being when I don't get on with 1 person out of 25. It's my fault that someone doesn't like me, and obviously they are right! I hope they don't tell anyone else because then no one will want to be my friend anymore! Oh hi there, Anxiety. Thanks for bringing your bestie, Depression, with you!
So how do I respond to this? Well, I push people away so that they can't hurt me, of course! Anxiety becomes paranoia, which leads to accusations or saying things I don't really mean, thus becoming the person that that first guy (who I honestly probably didn't like in the first place) said I was or thought I was. Then I have to put my tail between my legs and apologize, hoping my real friends, who I mistreated, will understand and forgive me.
Sigh. It's all so exhausting.
But here is the good news... to know better is to do better, and admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery. I have already begun to work on these issues... I know my triggers and am trying to deal with them as best I can. The most important part is to step outside of the problem and look at it and analyze it. Ask "how does this really impact me?" and "what would be the best response to this?" I am learning to slow down and not react immediately, which is really hard for me to do, so if you have ever been a target of this, or are in the future, please know how very sorry I am and that I am working to change.
2015 is going to be the year of letting go. I know that all of this anxiety stems from one situation in my life that I have clung to for the last 35 years. It's a crutch that needs to be kicked out from underneath me and burned. It's based on a lie that I created in my head at a very young age and took responsibility to fix, even though it was never my problem in the first place. I know that once I can fight it and kill it, it will no longer hold me back from everything that I am meant to accomplish and the happiness that I deserve (because we ALL deserve happiness).
And that begins my path to being the person I truly want to be, not the one I assigned to myself out of fear, self-hate, and blame for something that is not mine to take.
I know I'm not the only one. May my very public way of beginning the battle be empowering to you and help you start to reckon with your own beasts.
I want to begin by saying that this is not meant to be a tirade of excuses. The following are realizations that I have made about myself and why I am the way I am. I'm not asking for pity, just understanding. There's happy ending, I promise.
Being a good person is important to me. I have a strong need to be needed, to be remembered, to leave a legacy. In the last few years I have thought a lot about what I want people to say about me when I die. "She was a saint," isn't one of them, make no mistake. But I do what to be remembered as someone who gave back a lot... as someone who was a good teacher and wonderful friend. I want people to use words like "funny," and "caring," and "compassionate." This is the life that I want to build for myself, because I know that I am the one who needs to work to deserve those accolades. But it has been difficult to believe that I could ever be deserving of them.
I am an only child, ADHD, and an introvert. Until recently I didn't truly realize how all of that has impacted my life.
As an only child, I didn't have siblings to beat on me or that I had to learn to exist and share with. I grew up thinking everything was all about me because, well, it was! I was a well-behaved kid, but awkward in terms of making friends or playing with other kids because that was not the norm for me. I realize now that so much of what I did and said as a kid made me sound like a selfish, spoiled brat. I wasn't trying to be. None of what I did or said was maliciously thought out, it was all simply my honest reactions to the given stimuli or task. At family holidays that were spent with my grandfather's side, the next youngest person in attendance after me was my own mother! I was both mature for my age, and terribly immature because I didn't know how to act around other kids. I have felt awkward my entire life.
As I moved in to middle and high school, where girls become horrifyingly judgmental, mean, and competitive, it only got worse. Puberty brought with it big boobs earlier than pretty much anyone else, brand new insecurities, and crippling anxiety and depression. I know I was a selfish friend, but I didn't know any better. I was used to always getting what I wanted -- like listening to the music I liked, or watching the shows I liked without any siblings to give me grief about it. I always had my way, and came to believe that was what life was supposed to be like. I don't think I was selfish, honestly, because I was clueless about it. It just didn't occur to me to think about what others may have wanted, so I was bossy about play (to maximize the time I did have with other kids, I wanted to do what I couldn't do alone), vocally jealous and resentful in regards to what I didn't get to have, and always worried about what others thought of me because I wanted to be involved in everything. I know now that I lost some very good friends thanks to this behavior, all the way through college.
Being an only child also messed with my definition of the word "fair." To this day I have a tendency to be almost childlike with my black and white views. Everyone should get the exact same thing, the exact same amount, in the same amount of time. I was a child communist! I'm able to make out some shades of gray now, as an adult, but there are many areas where I am still all or nothing. I constantly have an internal struggle between being a true leader or just doing it myself, whatever "it" may be. My way may not be the right way, but at least it's something! But sometimes my way IS the right way. ;)
Being a fatherless child made me crave attention, connection, and approval. I found myself telling stories to create a better presentation of myself... someone that I saw as deserving of what I craved, because certainly I was not deserving as I was or am. That's what you do when seeking approval. I also employed what I call the Fat Girl Diversion Technique (aka "Make 'em laugh!"). If I make self-depricating jokes about myself, others will feel compelled to tell me that I am the opposite of those things in order to make me feel better. But, of course, I was smart enough to know that they would feel compelled to say these things, so they must have been said out of obligation and not because they were true.... which led me back to feeling badly about myself. Vicious circle.
The approval-seeker in me, ironically, never believes the good stuff. I have no problem, however, feeling like a terrible let-down of a human being when I don't get on with 1 person out of 25. It's my fault that someone doesn't like me, and obviously they are right! I hope they don't tell anyone else because then no one will want to be my friend anymore! Oh hi there, Anxiety. Thanks for bringing your bestie, Depression, with you!
So how do I respond to this? Well, I push people away so that they can't hurt me, of course! Anxiety becomes paranoia, which leads to accusations or saying things I don't really mean, thus becoming the person that that first guy (who I honestly probably didn't like in the first place) said I was or thought I was. Then I have to put my tail between my legs and apologize, hoping my real friends, who I mistreated, will understand and forgive me.
Sigh. It's all so exhausting.
But here is the good news... to know better is to do better, and admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery. I have already begun to work on these issues... I know my triggers and am trying to deal with them as best I can. The most important part is to step outside of the problem and look at it and analyze it. Ask "how does this really impact me?" and "what would be the best response to this?" I am learning to slow down and not react immediately, which is really hard for me to do, so if you have ever been a target of this, or are in the future, please know how very sorry I am and that I am working to change.
2015 is going to be the year of letting go. I know that all of this anxiety stems from one situation in my life that I have clung to for the last 35 years. It's a crutch that needs to be kicked out from underneath me and burned. It's based on a lie that I created in my head at a very young age and took responsibility to fix, even though it was never my problem in the first place. I know that once I can fight it and kill it, it will no longer hold me back from everything that I am meant to accomplish and the happiness that I deserve (because we ALL deserve happiness).
And that begins my path to being the person I truly want to be, not the one I assigned to myself out of fear, self-hate, and blame for something that is not mine to take.
I know I'm not the only one. May my very public way of beginning the battle be empowering to you and help you start to reckon with your own beasts.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Children
So many people have asked us over the years why we don't have any children yet. We always joke about it, and we know our tolerances run low, but for me, the fact is, I know that when I make an impact on 1 child as a teacher, through them I impact their children and their grandchildren... and so on, through many generations.
I have been told that not having children makes me selfish. Not having children doesn't make me selfish. Not having children allows me to give more of myself to greater numbers. Does that sound arrogant? It's not meant to be. I watch and listen to my colleagues who juggle being a wife, mother, and teacher (and all of the roles that being a teacher encompasses), and so often they are tired and stretched. Their loyalties are split, because make no mistake, teachers ARE loyal to their students, but they are also loyal to their families. I see them struggle to want to be there 100% for their students (YOUR children), and still have the time and energy to be a great mom and wife. I know that during the first month of school, I come home so exhausted that poor Jason is lucky to get a few words out of me before I collapse in to bed. I truly do not know how teachers with families do it!
Anyway, all of this brings me to what I am calling a mid-life crisis, though I don't know that it really is/was.
For many years I have dreamed of starting a school, but I have feared failure. I have also feared that I wanted it for the wrong reasons. I don't want to base a dream on saying f-you to people who didn't hire me, didn't believe in me, etc. But that's all changed. I was looking for a direction, and I found it, and it goes back to a saying that I have heard and, admittedly, have rolled my eyes at...
Be the change you want to see in the world. --Gandhi
I was watching Oprah's surprise finale, and Madonna was speaking on how Oprah's school for girls in Africa inspired her to open her own school for girls in Malawi, and I found myself asking, why we don't have these kinds of schools here in America? Don't we want to teach our girls that they can run the world? Don't we want our girls to be great leaders and teachers? Why can't someone open a school for OUR girls?
Wait.
Someone CAN! In fact, I know someone with the training and the drive to do just that. ME!
And so the journey has begun! I have signed up for a class next week to learn how to write a charter, and I have started researching. This is going to happen! And for the right reasons. :)
To make an impact. That is the legacy I wish for.
I have been told that not having children makes me selfish. Not having children doesn't make me selfish. Not having children allows me to give more of myself to greater numbers. Does that sound arrogant? It's not meant to be. I watch and listen to my colleagues who juggle being a wife, mother, and teacher (and all of the roles that being a teacher encompasses), and so often they are tired and stretched. Their loyalties are split, because make no mistake, teachers ARE loyal to their students, but they are also loyal to their families. I see them struggle to want to be there 100% for their students (YOUR children), and still have the time and energy to be a great mom and wife. I know that during the first month of school, I come home so exhausted that poor Jason is lucky to get a few words out of me before I collapse in to bed. I truly do not know how teachers with families do it!
Anyway, all of this brings me to what I am calling a mid-life crisis, though I don't know that it really is/was.
For many years I have dreamed of starting a school, but I have feared failure. I have also feared that I wanted it for the wrong reasons. I don't want to base a dream on saying f-you to people who didn't hire me, didn't believe in me, etc. But that's all changed. I was looking for a direction, and I found it, and it goes back to a saying that I have heard and, admittedly, have rolled my eyes at...
Be the change you want to see in the world. --Gandhi
I was watching Oprah's surprise finale, and Madonna was speaking on how Oprah's school for girls in Africa inspired her to open her own school for girls in Malawi, and I found myself asking, why we don't have these kinds of schools here in America? Don't we want to teach our girls that they can run the world? Don't we want our girls to be great leaders and teachers? Why can't someone open a school for OUR girls?
Wait.
Someone CAN! In fact, I know someone with the training and the drive to do just that. ME!
And so the journey has begun! I have signed up for a class next week to learn how to write a charter, and I have started researching. This is going to happen! And for the right reasons. :)
To make an impact. That is the legacy I wish for.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
On Being a Teacher
If I could share this with the person who most needs to read it, I would. Unfortunately, that person would not take this feedback well, but I feel it needs to be said, nonetheless.
First of all, just graduating from college was a big f-ing deal for me. I am not a great student -- I have ADHD, I get bored and distracted easily, and I never learned to study. I hate reading textbooks because it takes me many re-reads to totally process what is being said, and I cannot memorize much -- other than 100s of 80s lyrics. Priorities, you know. But dammit, I did it. I graduated, and I am THIS CLOSE to graduating with a Master's degree, too. It's been a costly road, filled with tears and frustration and insecurity, but I got here. I am proud of that.
I am passionate about my work. I didn't begin that way -- some people are born knowing they want to be teachers, I was never that person, but I found my way to this career, this calling. Certainly I didn't enter into this looking to make my fortune. In fact, I didn't really know what I wanted. I was a writer, wanting to follow that path, but, truthfully, scared of the competition and the struggles I knew I would have to endure. I am a creature who seeks stability and routine. The world of being a writer, the kind of writer I wanted to be, did not have those luxuries to offer. So what do you do with half a comm degree and two more years of school? Teach, of course.
I admit it -- I was cocky about it. How hard could it be, right? The kids HAD to listen to me, and I'm smarter than them, so this would be easy. My first experience was in a 9th grade English class. A little Romeo and Juliet, a little writing... easy. Well, no, actually. I guess I forgot that I was NOT fun as a 9th grader, didn't want to be in school, and had an attitude bigger than my heavily Aqua-netted bangs. By the time I had my first classroom full of elementary kids, I was smart enough to be terrified, and terrified enough to forget EVERYTHING I'd supposedly learned.
Fifteen years later, the job is not easy. I have found a stride, methodology, a style that fits me, but it is NOT easy. Not by any stretch. The expectations of parents, of the government, of administration, have all changed and increased every year, but our resources have not. They have, in fact, dwindled. They are not meeting the needs of every kid. There are far too many choices that make curriculum companies a WHOLE LOT of money, and yet offer solutions only for a set few. And before everyone assumes I am talking about money, I will say right now that money doesn't solve all problems. It can help, but at the end of the day, an ineffective teacher with the best curriculum materials money can buy is still ineffective. What makes me a good teacher, what makes me worth so much more than what I get (not just money!), is the fact that all I need is a willing learner to be a good teacher. My colleagues are the same. Getting 20-30 kids to listen and do the same thing at the same time is no easy task, but add to it that we are judged based on how they test on an arbitrary standardized test, and you are talking about a situation where my livelihood and the livelihoods of my colleagues are pretty much out of our own hands.
OK -- did you get all that? 'Cause now I am moving to my real point! ;)
So this week is TEACHER appreciation week. My administrator, who was once a teacher, has made a point of referring to it as STAFF appreciation week. Honestly, it really bothers me. First, on the most basic level, it pisses me off to be lumped in with "staff," when I have worked hard to get to where I am. I paid my tuition, I did my time in undergrad, I worked my ass off to get a 4.0 in my Master's classes, and yet I am simply part of the "staff," including secretaries, custodians, and cafeteria folks. Now please do not misunderstand. My mother was a secretary for many years. She supported us on her very tiny salary, and she brought me up to be a woman with strong beliefs, someone who values education a great deal. I do not seek to demean her hard work, nor the work of others. But, hey... there is a nationally recognized "Boss Day." There is a nationally recognized "Secretaries Day." In my school district we have a classified employees day... para-pro week... everyone gets their recognition. Except teachers. We have to share our week with the rest of the STAFF. But what if all of the teachers disappeared from our schools? Would we need the rest of the STAFF anymore? Would clean buildings or freshly prepared lunches make a difference were it not for the teachers? As I said above, give me a willing learner and I can teach! The rest is nice, but not necessary.
I have a colleague who shares my frustration, and as I told her today, I feel like this seemingly simple word change from TEACHER to STAFF illustrates how the American society treats educators. We are professionals, not unlike doctors, lawyers, nurses, and all of the others who go through formal training. We go through testing, we are licensed, and no, not just anyone can be a teacher. Just ask the 1/3 of all new teachers who quit within the first 5 years. And this is how we treat ourselves! Our own people, the folks who were just in the trenches themselves, reduce our one week of TEACHER appreciation to STAFF appreciation. If this is what we model to society, then why should they do any more themselves? Why should they see us as any different then those people who answer the phones and make lunches?
All of this is to simply say that it does take a village. Truly. And that every person who works in a school, in education in general, is important. However, please please please take the time to REALLY thank teachers. That doesn't mean buying stuff or formal presentations... that means saying thank you, being friendly, trusting their judgement, and being respectful of the hard work and dedication it takes to be a teacher. I always joke that it takes a very special breed of person to be a Kinder teacher, but the truth is, it takes a special breed of person to be a TEACHER. Period. Please respect that, and remember that becoming a teacher is a choice, not a consolation prize.
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