Skip to main content

What I Didn't Learn

Last week, I went to visit the school I used to work at, where my Little Sister attends school.  They had just finished standardized testing, and the very wise and probably exhausted teachers at that grade level were giving their students and themselves a bit of a break by having some theme days.  One teacher had a Hawaii luau theme.  That class called the classroom their hotel, wore leis and sunglasses, and read on beach chairs and towels.  (The teacher also told them there was no fighting in Hawaii and that seemed to work!).  Another teacher had a camp theme with baseball caps, fake campfires, flashlights, and other fantastic props.  The kids seemed so happy and relaxed to have a day out of the ordinary and I honestly wished I had thought of it.

I was talking to a couple of the teachers I knew from when I was there (I left 5 years ago next month).  We were talking about the differences between now and then.  The biggest difference is that the school is much, much calmer.  There are a number of differences.  I was there almost eight years (I started mid-year the first year) and we had 8 principals, plus one who had left the month before I came.  I think we had 5 superintendents/state administrators.  Our normal turnover for teachers each year was over 50%, with some teachers leaving after only a week.  Counselors and support staff changed frequently, when we had them.  Even the custodians and lunch servers didn't remain the same for long, although they usually outlasted the teachers.  By the time I was 31, I was the teacher who had been at the school the longest.

I was proud of my longevity.  I thought of myself as a survivor and someone who had stuck around for the kids when other people had let difficulties drive them away.  At the time, I didn't realize how detrimental this setup was to my own personal growth as a teacher.  I knew that the stress was making me sick, but I didn't realize that I didn't really know how to be a good teacher.  I had missed all the collaboration; all the learning from more experienced professionals; and all the learning, fun, and goals that can be accomplished by working with other talented people.  There were, of course, talented teachers, but they either left quickly or only concentrated on their own students (usually both) because, like me, that was the way they would survive.

Now it makes me sad.  I wouldn't trade the time I had with my students for anything but I really do wish I had had the chance to work with people.  I left the school feeling relieved and glad that it seemed to be in better shape and jealous that I hadn't been around to be a part of it and that I wasn't learning from and working with the people who are there now.

Comments

Jessica said…
Well... if the school environment hadn't have been better, then you'd be sad that it was still so rough, right? But it WAS better, so you wish you could participate... it sounds to me like you're recovering nicely from your massive burnout.

Just imagine it was maybe 2008 and the school was doing well: you'd have been happy about it but still unable to even think of engaging, or imagining what that would be like.

So, oddly, I think that your wistfulness is a good sign. :) (whatever your future may hold).
Bronwyn said…
You make excellent points!!

Popular posts from this blog

Volunteers

I had some of the most overqualified volunteers ever in my third grade class.  This may have had something to do with the fact that I shamelessly begged my friends to help in any way possible.  I think there were a few friends who I asked to come as soon as I met them, before I was entirely sure of their names.  Some of my volunteers included: -Someone with an MFA helping kids read -a PhD candidate in chemical engineering from Stanford helping with math -a PhD candidate in civil engineering from Cal helping with math -several PhD candidates in engineering from Cal teaching about construction (several years in a row) and helping with a field trip -my extremely talented brother bringing his drums several times -a friend from Pixar who got us tours three different years, once when they were no longer giving tours - and came to the class to sign the kids' toys from Cars . -a physical therapist (who I think has a masters') who helped the kids with reading -many athlet...

The Difference a School Makes

Update:   9/28/26: If you are reading this, the spoiler alert is that things got much harder for Jorge after this, and we kept in touch over the decades, even as he’s been incarcerated. He’s getting out of prison in early 2027 and I’m raising money to help him start his life fresh because everyone deserves second chances. Please take a look! Wow. I've talked before about the two kids that a friend and I mentor in a way. I'll call them Jorge (the older one) and Luis (the younger). I had Jorge in my class in third grade and he has had it rough. He's the oldest of six children and was born when his mother was 14. His mom is frequently in rehab or jail, although she seems to have been out for the last couple of years. If she's clean or not is anyone's guess. Jorge helped his grandmother raise Luis. He's always been super over-responsible, stressed out, and had way too many adult responsibilities. About a year ago, Jorge started to crack. He was 13, which isn't f...

Cinderella, retold (and much better)

A seventh-grade student rewrote Cinderella and I think it’s much better! The Dressmakers Once there was a girl named Cinderella whose mother died. Then her father married again, a woman who did not care for Cinderella. She only cared for her own daughters and her husband's fortune. Cinderella’s father made sure they were always fair to Cinderella but two years later,  her father died. Cinderella was left alone with her  stepmother and stepsisters. Cinderella was treated like a house maid but got no money for her work. She had to make the meals, iron the clothes and more. But on some things, like cleaning the windows and floor, Cinderella had to clean them five times per day or according to her stepmother, they will not shine as much as they should.    Cinderella would often cry by a tree by her parents' graves. In that tree lived a little bird who Cinderella would talk with. She would talk to the bird about her stepmother’s many chores and little love for her, a...