I'm all about honesty, but lately I've been keeping on the silent side because I don't want to just complain and spout negativity on here.
Instead, I'm trying to focus on how richly I've been blessed.
It ain't easy.
(Allow me to complain just a bit, and then I'll end it on a positive note, I promise.)
Like I said, it's a job I never applied for...I still yearn to be back in second grade, where I felt needed and and significant because I truly felt like I influenced and shaped my young students. The high school is a place where students care more about peers liking them than about teachers liking them, where some students like to push the limits just because that's somehow part of their adolescent make-up. It's a place where I blend in because of my height, general frame, and lack of "looking my age," which is moving closer and closer to 29. I think because of this some students see me as more of an equal, and they challenge me daily because it's hard to respect a teacher who you view as so very close to a high school student. About once a week I have horrible days at work and I literally just want to cry because some kids just really need to learn some kindness and respect for the adults who devote so much time to trying to help them learn. Some kids just want to play hackey sack or study for their next class and don't seem to view my class as something they should put much effort into. I get so frustrated and disappointed because some of the students just don't care about learning Spanish; to me, it's so discouraging because I LOVE Spanish and it hurts me that they think it's stupid or boring or uninteresting in every way. I try so hard to present things in interesting ways and to make assignments that will appeal to everyone...but of course, I can't make everyone happy. On days like that, it's hard to keep my focus...but somehow I get through every day and walk down to the office, where a smiling Adelle is waiting to greet me with, "Mommy!" and to chatter about her day in first grade while she holds my hand and we walk through the hall like fish going against the current, dodging high school students trying to escape the school building. In those moments, no matter how bad of a mood I'm in, she reminds me of why I'm at work and why I've got to keep going. I want her (and Jackson...and all of my students) to have good teachers all throughout her school career, not just at the beginning. If I give up or decide to not try as hard as I do to make a difference, where does that leave my daughter and son in their high school years?