To Those I Left Behind
A lot of people ask me if I miss teaching.
I don’t think much about it right when they ask. My answer
comes almost instantly and without restraint: no.
I don’t miss being told all the ways I’m failing. I don’t
miss not being told thank you. I don’t
miss lesson planning on Sundays and being told my class was boring. I don’t
miss making seating charts. I don’t miss grading essays. I don’t miss the
excuses from parents. I don’t miss lies from students. I don’t miss the teacher
“trainings.” I don’t miss the early mornings. I don’t miss testing. I don’t
miss bad attitudes. I don’t miss teenage drama. I don’t miss seeing teens
making out, and I don’t miss hearing them swear. I don’t miss the bells or the
drills. I don’t miss trying to convince them that reading and writing are
important in “real life” but also in their personal lives. I don’t miss the
noise. I don’t miss the rude and disrespectful ones.
Here are some things I do miss, though: Vacations. Seeing a student
work really hard. Hearing a student tell me that s/he didn’t used to like
English, but now they love it. Hearing the occasional ‘thank you’ or ‘this is
my favorite class!’ Laughing at the many ridiculous things students would do or
say, sometimes not until after they left class. Reading the occasional
intelligent thought. Watching them perform at talent shows. Asking kids hard
life questions and making them really uncomfortable. Pushing kids to think.
Having kids laugh at my nerdy jokes. Making them laugh during Faculty Follies. Getting
some sweet and thoughtful cards and gifts. Showing kids that their lives really
aren’t that hard (read: Holocaust). Witnessing them realize that some books are good. Trying to show them that they’ll
just have to work harder at some things, but they’ll get there.
One of the biggest things I miss, though? The community.
I had dessert with some teacher friends last night. I miss
the feeling that these people knew exactly what I dealt with every single day.
Teaching was hard. But at least
everyone around me felt the same way. There was an unmatched support system
between teachers. A knowing nod. A sympathetic glance. A supportive sounding
board. Equal frustration. Just that comforting feeling that you were not alone
in the battle of every class period, every day, every week for 40 weeks. We linked
arms and marched forward in strength to the battlefield of the classroom,
picking each other up when we fell. And that is one of the greatest parts of
teaching that they don’t tell you when you go to school.
That’s the part that they don’t tell you you’ll miss when you
leave: the friends you won’t find anywhere else.
My heart is with those of you in the field that I so readily
abandoned. You are doing a great work. Just know you’ve got someone in the
stands cheering you on.
Comments