Skip to main content

Plane Crashes and Education

This past week was Homecoming Week at my high school. As someone who was intentionally removed from the events that make up high school memories, this week is entertaining for me. It is a week long competition between the different classes, and the students and teachers easily get involved in the festivities. As a class sponsor, I am in the thick of things.

All week, my students commented on my visible lack of sleep. We all worked very long hours preparing display boards and skits and participating in physical competitions. Despite the fact that it completely takes over my life...and I work 14 hour days...and my dishes don't get washed...and I cannot even return text messages in a timely manner...I enjoy the process of getting to know my students and watching them work.

My students this year did a fantastic job. They won the board competition, came in second in the skit, and tied (although we're contesting this) for first place in the physical competition. I'm so proud of them. Their skit was witty and well organized. Their board was gorgeous. They worked like a team.

As I washed the piles of dirty dishes this morning, I thought about a conversation I had with some other sponsors at last night's game. Each statement started with "I" and "we". What struck me is how easily we become intertwined with our students' performance.

This is why I literally cry when my students do poorly on tests. This is why I cringe when I have to pass back an essay that was poorly written. This is why I encourage and push and remind them how talented they are. I take my work personally. Deep within me, I feel that their performance is a reflection of my performance. I want them to do well.

I'm not alone in this sentiment. Most of the educators I know feel the same.

This is what bothers me about the current wave of "anti-teacherism" in this country. It's easy for an outsider to look at our schools and pass judgment on what is a very small minority of teachers. Yes, there are teachers who show up for a paycheck and just assign simple work from a textbook. Believe me when I say they are the minority.

And yet, because this minority gets all the attention in the media and political pulpits, my work is being judged. It reminds me of a comment made to me years ago by an airplane mechanic who listened to me fears about flying for the first time. "It's very safe. The only reason crashes make the news is because they are so rare that when they do happen, it's big news."

I wish more people could recognize this. I wish more people could step back and see the amazing things at work inside our schools. No, it's not perfect. There are many things I would change if I had the power to do so. But I know the good that is there. I know the people who truly care about your children and refer to them as "my kids". And we love them and want the best for them and often fight for what is right for them.

So as I try to get my life back in order and enjoy my more relaxed schedule this weekend, I will think about "my kids" and your kids. I'm so proud of mine.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...

On Muchness

A dear friend confessed to me last night that he had lost his muchness and found it again. I confessed the same and even admitted the ridiculous series of events that recently sapped my own muchness. That little confession seemed to do wonders. It's so easy to fall out of step with myself. In fact, I do it quite naturally. Growing up in a Christian home, I took to heart the instructions to love my neighbor more than I love myself. Oh, wait! I just checked the scripture. "Love your neighbor as yourself." I may have been doing this the wrong way. I ended 2010 with the resolution that I would no longer make decisions out of fear. I am starting 2011 with the resolution to make decisions based on what I want. I've struggled with this because I've always believed that I should consider the needs and wants of others before my own. I'd like to think this is a valiant approach, but the truth is that it only leads to martyrdom...and I don't think I was given the opp...

TMI and Tidal Waves

As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...