Rank and certification

I’m discovering the education world can be weird. When I was an apprentice I knew I wasn’t allowed to be in a room alone with the kids. Despite having taught informally for years, supervising teens and all my previous experience, I didn’t have a license yet. That meant that when my cooperating teacher was out, the sub still had to come in. Granted, they let me run the show, but a licensed teacher had to be in the room.

Today I had the first experience of the shoe being on the other foot – I was in the Dean’s office while about half a dozen kids were serving detention – one of whom has a paraprofessional with him. The dean had to run out and take care of something, so he asked me to stay for a few minutes. I didn’t mind but wasn’t sure why he needed me to. It wasn’t until the para pointed out that I had to – because she’s not allowed to be alone with the kids. It was kind of surreal to have this flipped on me. Like I suddenly matter.

I find it odd that a para can be held singly responsible for a special needs student, but can’t babysit a room full of kids in detention. The people who run these after school programs don’t have teaching licenses either, yet they’re in charge of a whole room full of kids. Maybe it’s because it’s no longer officially school at that point? *shrug*

First Year Teacher Brags

-My first “you’re my favorite teacher” note

-Having a friend and colleague who’s a Professor of Science Education think that my classroom management idea is SO awesome, he shared it with his class. (ahem, his class of teachers in training!)

-Earning a “highly effective” (highest possible) rating on one of my elements on my first official evaluation.

Gratitudes 9-27-13

I’m super grateful for a supportive school community. I’ve had people give me supplies, lessons, and my dept lead has pulled my butt out of the fire a few times.

I’m grateful that even though I have 6 class sections, they’re all the same grade to prep for. Some of my colleagues have 2 or even 3. Ouch.

I’m grateful for good kids. They’re a handful, but they’re 6th graders… they’re kind of supposed to be. They are energetic and talkative and scatterbrained and irresponsible… so yeah, they’re right where 11 and 12 year olds should be. But they’re GOOD kids. Kids that still, in general, respect adults and want to do well. Kids that give me hugs and ask me what my favorite color is on any given day so they know what color to make the happy little doodles they give me.

I’m grateful to be in grad school, even if it makes me just a little manic sometimes.

Am I a Teacher Yet?

I keep jokingly asking this question when various little things happen:

• The moment I realized I was pondering the adhesive and cohesive properties of water instead of bitching about the rain
• Finding literally hundreds of resources online and sorting through them all
• Going through a store and at least 5 different things trigger the thought of “ooh, I could use this in my classroom…”
• Looking at my desk in the front of the room , realizing that it’s covered in lesson plans, graphic organizers and COFFEE.
• Realizing that this job may in fact turn me into a coffee drinker
• Probably the most important bit… finally having coworkers to commiserate with. Teacher-friends through my Fellows program. It wasn’t until I was watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy that I realized how much I craved professional friends. People who got it. People who shared my dreams and goals and frustrations. People who understand what an accomplishment it really is when you finally get that difficult kid to participate, or the importance of squeaking in a snack on your prep.

But ultimately, it isn’t any of that. It was the moment I realized I’ve taken this huge step to finally do something that makes me happy. To do something bigger than myself. To make the growth of others into my life’s work. 

The moment when I realize that we are all busting our asses and spending time drying each other’s tears because we know how much those kids are counting on us. Because we know that they can’t afford for us to be bad at this. To be in a profession driven by compassion and intelligence…

I am a teacher.