Reflections on Teaching

Teaching is another profession that can’t be treated as just a job. I’ll admit, some days, as I’m driving to school, I can’t wait for the day to end before it even begins. But once I see those little monkeys, the feeling usually dissipates. There are days when I wished I had easier students, or more driven students, or more serious students, but I remind myself that I’m placed at that school for a purpose. As I reach my 6th year of teaching, there are many students who start fading in my memory, but there are a few that have left a permanent mark in my heart.

One of my little girls, A, was in my 1st grade class during my 2nd year of teaching. She loved me and I loved her. She shadowed me everywhere. Along with 2 other sisters, A was in foster care. She was cute, bright, and loved learning. One day, I was told that her dad was granted custody of A and her sisters once again. She will be back with her other 5 siblings. Yes, she was one of eight kids living with her dad. Then A stopped coming to school. And I worried until the day her dad brought her back. Her behavior started changing. She stopped reading, she stopped doing homework, and she started having problems with others. There was no stability in her life at home and it was affecting her at school. At the end of the school year, I watched her leave knowing that I won’t see her again next year. I don’t know where she is or what her life is like, but I constantly think about her and pray for her well being.
Another little girl, P, was also in my 1st grade class during my 2nd year of teaching. She was incredibly bright and had a bold personality. I loved her. She lived with her mom and baby brother at a local women’s shelter. She was also feisty and tough because her mom was the subject of taunting at the shelter. P got into fights with the other kids to defend her mommy. Three days before Christmas vacation, I got a call from the principal. “Please bring P to the office afterschool. A police officer will take her home. Her mom was arrested.” I didn’t know what to do or tell P. They don’t teach you these things in the credential program. I walked with her to the office and sat with her while we waited for the officer to come. I told her someone else is taking her home and to not worry. When the police officer came in, he told P he would take her home to her brother. She started to worry about her dear mother, and the officer reassured her that her mother was ok. P looked at me with scared eyes, looked at the officer, and looked at me again and gave me a big hug and left with the officer. Something tells me this has happened to her before. She didn’t come back to school the next day, or the day after that, or after that. What made the whole situation worse was my principal. She is a stickler of rules. She told me, “Since it was in front of the police and me, I guess it was ok, but you shouldn’t hug the children.” Because we’re not supposed to touch the children. But this was not a normal situation. She was being taken away three days before Christmas vacation. And I needed that hug just as much as P did. After Christmas vacation, she came back and life seemed to continue the way it was before. P never did homework, she had problems with other kids, and she had too much to worry about than to care about school. Her mom asked me how she can help P. I said in the nicest way, “You need to get it together for the sake of your daughter.” One day, a few months later, P stopped coming to school. She transferred somewhere else. That’s it, no notice, no goodbye.

Like with A, I think about P all the time and wonder what her life is like. Like with A, I pray for P all the time. As much as I love them, I know God loves them infinitely more than I do. I pray for their safety, well being and that someday, our paths will cross somehow.

Teaching isn’t just about filling the kids’ head with ABC’s and 123’s. It’s about caring for them wholly. And with many of the kids in my school, they need someone to care. Sometimes, when I complain, I think I should just go to a school where it would be easier. Kids with fewer problems. Kids with supportive families. Kids who are more driven to learn. Or I could be like some of my coworkers and treat the kids like it’s just a job and not give a crap about the kids. Don’t teach them, don’t care about them, don’t know anything about them. And I stay at my school because of these crappy teachers. Because the kids need someone to care about them. They need me (I’m not trying to be a self righteous cocky bastard here). Some people tell me I should just find an “easier school.” But I remember it’s not about what’s easy for me, but what’s best for others. I hope I remember this, even on the toughest days. A, P, and a few others, I think about you and pray for you all the time. I hope to see you again someday.