teach. - The Ultimate Professional Development

A few weeks ago, I received an email stating I had been signed up for The Ron Clark Academy Experience. My immediate response was, "YES!! I'm so excited." Later, I realized it was on a Friday at 8:15 a.m. in Atlanta, GA, so I thought, "I'll spend the night in Atlanta." Then, I found out my principal had gotten a district mini bus, and we'd all be riding together. This meant leaving the school at 5 a.m., which meant a 3:30 a.m. wake up call for me, which meant getting home at 9 p.m., which meant an incredibly LONG day. Honestly, I was less than thrilled about the travel arrangements. But, I sucked it up. And, I'm glad I did.

The bus ride there wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated, and I wasn't nearly as tired as I thought I'd be. We did arrive at the academy late due to Atlanta traffic (go figure). However, the day flew by. My husband texted midday. Our banter went something like this:

Husband: Hopefully you aren't having too terrible of a time. I miss you something fierce. 

Me: It's actually really awesome. I'd teach forever at a school like this.

Husband: Makes me smile to know that too. I miss you and it sucks for you because I won't move to Atlanta. 

Lucky for him, we won't be moving to Atlanta. I am nowhere near the teacher I need to be in order to teach there. But, I learned so much and many questions I've been asking myself were answered.

Here are a few of flaws I realized about myself as a teacher.

1. I'm too soft on the kids. Yes, I hold my students to high expectations. Yes, I strive to teach them accountability and responsibility. But, I could be doing a lot more to instill those characteristics. 

2. I need tremendous work on my public speaking and presentation skills. I use too many filler words when I'm teaching, because I tend to talk WAY too much. I need to dig DEEP and find that passion and energy that filled my soul my first year or two of teaching...plus more. Creativity was my thing. Then, I let go of it, because I was and still am tired.

3. My students need more time to talk. My students need more practice, need to fail more, and need to critique their failures more. If failures are made and not discussed or critiqued, failures will remain failures. Failures are natural moments for self reflection and learning. They should be embraced and plans for change and future success should be made. How many times do you fail before learning from your mistakes? Some of us learn from our first failure while others learn from the tenth or the hundredth. 

There were also confirmations.

1. I am meant to be a teacher. I was born to be a teacher, because I was born a fighter. I've questioned many times over the years whether or not teaching is my purpose, primarily because I've questioned whether or not the stress is worth it. Teaching is in my heart and soul. For the rest of my life, I will be a teacher in some shape or form or capacity. 

2. My philosophy of educating young people is not idealistic. It's needed. Over the eight years of teaching in title one schools in the southern public education system, I have felt more like an outsider in a school building than I have anywhere else. There have been times I felt more comfortable with my views and perspectives in a church than I have in a southern elementary school. 

3. Life's challenges have helped me empathize with students. This same empathy has helped me build trusting relationships with students and families who have lost hope in the public education system. These relationships with students and families have created more success in the classroom than the newest, trendiest research based curriculum. Students and families do not need more judgments passed on them. They need someone to be honest with them and to give them hope. Rita Pierson said it pretty well in her famous Tedtalk, Every Kid Needs a Champion, "Kids don't learn from people they don't like." However, I'd add to that and say, "Kids don't learn from people they don't like or respect." The same could be said for parents.

The 2016-2017 school year has been a rocky one for me. I've questioned my career path every day. I've felt restricted. I've felt like an utter failure, because I've felt like my freedom and creativity to teach the way I want to teach has been relinquished. I feel silenced. I look at the Teacher of the Year and District Teacher of the Year Finalist accolades sitting on the bookshelf in my classroom, and I want to cry. I want to cry, because I don't feel deserving nor do I feel I'm fulfilling the role. I've been blaming all of these negative thoughts and feelings on a lot of different people and laws and rules - but I need to put more blame on myself. 

I'm allowing the outside factors, of which I have little control of, to dictate my attitude and steal my joy. I chose to be a teacher, because I felt it was the one profession where I could make the largest impact. I've always wanted to be someone's light in the middle of darkness. Yet, my light has been very dim lately. My students deserve more. 

It's time to stand strong, fight back, and come in screaming for these kids. After all, I chose this profession for them, not for the lawmakers, not for the superintendent, not for the administration, not for making friends or gaining acknowledgements or for sucking up. I chose this profession to teach humans, to do my part in breaking the unhealthy cycle so many kids come from, to build promise for a brighter future for generations to come, to be the change.

The teaching profession has not seen the end of me nor has it seen the best of me. I'm still growing, learning, reflecting, and fighting. I'm not sure where the future will carry me, but you can bet, I'll be a gladiator for the kids.