Something about yesterday’s post didn’t feel right. I mean, I enjoyed writing it and giggled when I re-read it (don’t act like you don’t laugh at your own jokes. Liar.), but then I read some of the comments and got…sad.
It’s totally my fault. This time of the year is a little overwhelming, and I let my emotions get the best of me. I promise it’s not the last time that’ll happen. But I just have to set the record straight.
Listen, educators have it rough. Administrators can be puppets, school board members are “volunteers” with personal agendas, and standardized testing is kicking us in the teeth.
BUT.
If teaching were such an awful gig, so many of us wouldn’t have signed up for it. And I wouldn’t have missed it terribly while holding my beautiful newborn baby in my arms. I mean, that’s powerful, right? Rocking perfection in a quiet nursery, yet still yearning for your career? How many people can say that?!
It’s hard, but it’s rewarding. Isn’t that the case for everything worth doing? Exercising, day-drinking post-20s, parenting, writing…
Speaking of writing, I want to share this with you not to toot my own horn (maybe just a little), but to emphasize the good. The good students with good hearts who got a good education and who are doing good. No I didn’t mean well, but thanks for re-reading a few times to be sure. *Wink.
I received the following message a few months ago from a former student. He was one of my first students, actually, so don’t get all “damn she’s old” when you read that he is now a professor. Let’s just pretend I started teaching when I was 18, okay?
Anyway, I asked this fabulous student if I could publish his words, and he kindly granted permission.
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Hey Ms B. or J. or whatever I should call you now, (Editor’s note: my married name threw him for a loop)
I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being a positive influence on my life. I was just reading some of your blog entries and it made me sad to think you aren’t in a classroom anymore (granted for the best reason you could have). I never was a very vocal or outgoing person in high school, but I have grown into a man who believes in saying the things he thinks and feels. Thus, I felt like sending you a message.
I was teaching some of my students last night (they are first semester engineers at the University of Virginia) and they started asking me about my educational background. To say the least, they were speechless to hear about (my high school). The fact that the person they’re entrusting to teach them physics at a collegiate level is someone who went to a low-income school district and is one that they normally would look down upon was astonishing. A few of them even apologized to me.
I never have really stopped to think about how lucky I am to be here because failing has never been an option. They made me reflect, reflect about how many times I could have just quit, said enough was enough, got into drugs, listened to the notion that nothing good could come out of Valley (Editor’s note: that’s our high school’s name)… Hmm, out of the Valley, kind of poetic now that I think about it…(Editor’s note: get it?!! Brilliant.) I could have just never left to follow my dreams.
But then there were people like you and others (Editor’s note: teachers’ names removed for privacy), that never really let that thought slip into my head. For that hour we had class it didn’t matter that we were a “bad” school district, we were going to learn and that was that. I don’t really know where I’m going with this but I just wanted to let you know that I have fond memories of that freshman year English class I took with you and it was the first “accelerated” class I ever took. From that point on I don’t think I’ve ever looked back. I hope some day you find your way back into the classroom though, because I’m sure there are others out there like me that just need someone to push them.
Thank you,
Dan
P.S.- I totally owned one of my boarding school, elitist buddies last week in a conversation about The Cask of Amontillado and The Most Dangerous Game. (Editor’s note: swelling with pride)
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I literally cry every time I read that bad boy. I want everyone to know students like Dan exist. They are going to be doctors and physicists and teachers and lawyers and parents. They are articulate, bright, hard-working. They see a challenge and they face it head-on. They don’t allow a low-income school district or personal obstacles to prevent them from achieving their dreams. They are do-ers, givers, scholars. They are hope. They are our future.
I understand why you may feel the way you do after reading yesterday’s comments. As a teacher, your students are your kids. It’s okay for you to point out their opportunities because you obviously care for them, but it may leave a bad taste to hear (or read) others doing it.
Some teacher-student relationships are more fulfilling than others, and I hope those kids that were highlighted in yesterday’s post find a teacher they can connect with the way Dan connected with you.
It was clear in your tone that you are frustrated because you care.
THANK YOU, Amy!!! I didn’t want everyone to think we’re doomed because our youth is worthless. There is certainly a portion of our youth that leaves a bit to be desired, but there are also some real stand-outs. Like my Dan 😉
Maybe I’m completely off my rocker, but I didn’t see a single thing wrong with your post yesterday. I thought you expressed some frustration in a tongue-in-cheek way. I didn’t take anything you said literally — at this point I think I know that you wouldn’t really call your students “dickheads” (at least not publicly). That aside, I LOVED today’s post. It’s a very real, clear testament to not only the kind of teacher your are, but also to the kind of person you are — a gal with a HUGE heart, who loves every single one of her students, who knows that what she does each day matters, who genuinely wants to see her “kids” succeed. How lucky you are to have a letter like that to keep as a reminder of all of those things — especially on your “frustrated” days. Way to go, teacher!
I think I left something out. Aside from jokingly using the word “dickhead,” I don’t think you view all students as pain in the booty delinquents. It was just a light-hearted way to vent some exasperation and make people chuckle. That’s what I meant, sorry if it didn’t come out that way.
You’re not off your rocker; you’re a good pal 😉 You know me, so you know everything was tongue-in-cheek. I just really wanted to follow-up with some positive! THANK YOU, Christie!
Steph, I didn’t read yesterday’s post. But, what I’ve gathered from today is that you made a difference in one student’s life. Even if it’s just one person’s life that you’ve changed for the good, that is enough. I’m certain this isn’t the only student’s life you’ve influenced in a positive way.
As for Dan wishing you’d find your way back to the classroom, I say you’ve already got an incredible platform with your blog. You offer up life lessons on a daily basis. Keep it up super lady! 🙂
Thanks so much, Anka 😉
I missed yesterday’s post, but you spoke so eloquently here about your love of teaching that it is easy to see where a big part of your heart can be found. And my gosh, what a great letter! I would have that thing framed! But that’s just me; I’m kind of vain. Hehe. Great post, Stephanie!
Ooooh I should frame it!!! Nice!
So sweet! You are such a good person! I kind of hate myself a little right now.
Read my ABC post and you may change your mind, Jill 😉
Aww…see, those are the good days. Where you realize that what you did and how you did it had meaning for someone. So often we just fumble through careers with little reassurance that we ever made a difference, and now you have the proof. As a former newspaper editor, I promise you that is much better than fan mail from a guy in jail. True story.
Fan mail from a dude in jail?! Well you’ve gotta tell that story!!!!!
Wow! Now that is amazing!
Happier than the post before it, right? 😉
I enjoyed yesterday’s post, but today’s is a home run! This is what makes it all worthwhile! Obviously you make a difference in many students lives. What a wonderful letter!
Michelle, you’re so right: this is definitely what makes it all worthwhile!! Thanks for reading (again!!!). xo
I hate that the comments made you sad! I hope mine didn’t. It was clear you were just annoyed and I didn’t get the feeling for a second that you didn’t enjoy your job!
And it’s clear you are good at your job, especially based upon that letter from y our former student. Congrats and happy summer! 🙂
Heck no your comment didn’t make me sad! I would’ve bashed Jerry off of the sidewalk had you hurt me 😉 I just didn’t want readers to think ALL students suck and our future is hopeless, ya know?
How awesome! I can’t imagine how good it must feel to get a letter like that to validate all your hard work. My mother was in education for 30 years and my sister is a diagnostician. I think a lot of people overlook how difficult the teaching profession is. I’m not (and never will be) cut out for it, so I commend you brave souls that man the front lines of our schools! On behalf of parents everywhere, for all you do, Stephanie!
That was supposed to say “thanks for all you do” but I got ahead of myself.
Oh Stephanie…. this note from your former student says SO much about you, and all you did to make a difference in the lives of so many. You are a true HERO in my book!!! I am off to read your last post, it’s been so crazy that I have missed so much in the blogging world lately! You keep reading that precious note and realize how valuable you are in this world. Not only as a teacher that once was, but as a woman, a mom, a wife, and a beloved friend. SO blessed to have found you!!! 🙂
I love this post! I’ve been teaching 6 years now, and with the encouragement of certain teachers, I did what critics thought I never could do-finish college. Amen to you, sista! Teachers rock! We need more good ones like you.
Nikki