Skip to main content

It's Not the Teaching

My favorite thing about teaching is not teaching. I'm sure there are teachers who love that part of it - who live for the moment that a lightbulb goes on in a student's mind and who are fascinated by pedagogy -- who stay up thinking about different ways of explaining a math problem or a grammatical concept.

I don't mind those things, and I like some of them. And, of course, it is wonderful to see that light bulb go on. But that isn't why I personally teach.

For me, the reason to teach is the whole child.

I love dealing with their brains. Their brains are so different at different ages and stages of development! Sometimes students are absolutely infuriating but it's totally developmentally appropriate. Sometimes you can almost literally see the neural pathways forming, like when third graders start questioning why Native Americans are called Indians, and I want to cheer them on: "Yes! Think things through! Taken nothing for granted!"Sometimes they are so impulsive that I wanted to spend the entire day teaching them self-control, and throw out the math and spelling lessons. Kids -- of any age -- have FASCINATING brains.

But I also love being trusted with their emotions. There is no higher honor for me than a child trusting me with their difficult emotions. And there are so many of them! I was working with a 6th grade tutoring student recently and, in a one-hour session, I saw him cycle through sadness, crying, embarrassment over the crying, worry, relief, happiness, anger, and more. Because that's how it is when you're in sixth grade. Sometimes they ask me for advice or say they want to talk, and sometimes they just start to act out or cry and I have to figure out what happened and if I can help.

Sometimes I'm involved in the emotional trauma. These are two apology notes I received from sisters who had noticed my bowl of quarters (laundry money) and helped themselves to some. I noticed some money missing, talked to a few parents, and it turned out that several parents had noticed their kids coming home with extra quarters. It was too much temptation for impulsive kids. These two were really afraid to apologize because they thought I would hate them. They wrote apology letters and paid me back and we talked about times that we had all done things we knew were wrong because the temptation was so strong. They thanked me for not being angry and letting them apology and they gave me extra-strong hugs that day. Their mom thanked me later for helping them with valuable life lessons and being a good teacher and friend to them, which made my heart happy.

Because it's so important to get to know kid as whole people and not just brains or academic machines, I look for all sorts of connections. My dog, Ruby, is one perfect example. I now tutor mostly out of my home, and the students adore her. We recently had a birthday celebration for her ninth birthday (what I'm going to do when this dog leaves us, I do not know, because she has almost 30 best friends now), and she got presents, hugs, a doggie cake, and many many notes like the one up above.

Another way to connect with kids, and one that I can do easily working out of my home, is to feed them. Kids come to me after school or in the early evening and I always offer them water and often a snack. Some of them are comfortable enough with me that they'll ask for a snack and I tell them I'll share if I have something but I won't always, and they are comfortable with that. But I always try to rustle something up, even if it's just sharing a cut-up apple, because there is something very special about sharing food with people.

It's an honor to work with kids, and it is even more of an honor to be trusted and loved, and yes, even taken for granted by them.


Comments

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...