Head Above Water

Imagine if you're a kid, and you're just learning to swim. You haven't yet mastered the complicated strokes and form that come with age and practice. When you're just a child, there is only one objective. Keep your head above the water. That's how you learn to dog-paddle. And make those little circle waves with your hands. It prevents you from going under. Which isn't very pleasant, as you'll either get a bad case of chlorine up your nose, or...well, let's not go further. The idea is to stay afloat.

This is pretty much what I've been doing in the week since I posted last. I have now taught six full days of Honors English at Mauldin High. In that time, I have:

- graded stacks and stacks of assignments
- listened to lame excuses for late work
- fought tooth and nail to keep students engaged
- re-instituted "read-alouds" in class
- secured LCD projectors at the last possible moment
- been interrupted by students, administrators, and Spirit Week announcements
- attended a rather gloomy department meeting
- held a conference with a student who has a bone to pick with the entire public school system
- heard conflicting ADD/problem-child stories from parents
- considered quitting

I hope my last comment doesn't surprise you. I promise, if you and I changed roles, you'd think about handing in your pointer too. Certainly it would cross your mind. When your goal in life is to be a teacher, student-teaching is your baptism of fire. Forget your first 'official' year: the true test is the winter of your senior year. If you can succeed in that, the first year is cake. You'll have your own room, your own resources, and you can pretty much lesson plan in any way that suits you best.

One of my biggest problems is that I put too much pressure on myself to succeed in everything. It's a prime motivator on one hand and a grueling headache on the other. I find myself setting unrealistic standards, thinking I have to win my students over right away and implement all the suggestions from my ED professor and my cooperating teacher immediately or I'm a dead duck. What seems like a drive to succeed, the will to win, can also mask a fear of failure. If you screw up once, it all crashes down.

What I am slowly working to learn is a simpler method. From where I'm standing, just staying afloat is a victory. Getting through one day relatively intact is reason to be thankful. Even if you had a crappy day in which it seemed not one of your charges listened to you, the copy machine zonked out, you forgot your lunch, or dropped your stack of student papers in a puddle, the fact that you survived makes you a success.

It's been a trying week (since last Wednesday when I took over), to put it mildly. I have had nights in which I get so overwhelmed with everything that I've cried myself to sleep. Contrary to popular belief, crying is not a sign of weakness. Like I said, switch places with me sometime. See if you don't shed any tears. But I'm still alive and coming back for more. For the first time, I'm beginning to glance ahead into the future and half-convince myself that I'll make it as a teacher. I'm slowly building a comfort level with my students and seeing a few lights come on in their eyes. I'm getting to the point where I feel more like a teacher and less like a practitioner. If that makes any sense.

I have amazing friends, my wonderful girlfriend Anna Kate, and my family supporting me every step of the way. I have God, through Whom all things are possible if I have faith even as small as a mustard seed. And I have six days under the belt. I can do another six days. Which makes twelve. Then I can do another twelve days. And so on...

Step by step, I can hopefully begin treading water as a teacher-apprentice. So long as I keep my head afloat.