One day, my children...

So many crazy things happened this past week. The most hilarious was probably on Friday when a student told me that he was going to try to get me fired. Okay, maybe that is not hilarious, but it is interesting.

On Friday, I also had a student use the phrase, “That’s so gay,” when trying to articulate why something was undesirable. I decided to stop the class, and explain why it was inappropriate to use that phrase and why it is offensive. He decided he wanted to use the phrase again later, so then I made him write sentences. He did not want to cooperate, so I had to call his parents. Then he wrote his sentences. We are still going to have another conversation about it—I expect my classroom to be a safe and respectful space for everyone.

Today (Saturday), we had a professional development—called “power”—for TFA. While we were going over stuff, I could not help but think about all the things that I can do better.

I need better assessments, better lesson plans, and more parent contact. I need to be more organized, I need to have more discipline, and I need to use my time more efficiently. Put simply, I need to be better—a lot better.

The hardest part is not ignorance of my ability to do better; rather, it is most difficult knowing that I am not doing the best that I can. At some point between knowing what I should be doing and feeling tired and confused, I fall into survival mode—trying to keep my head above water each day—and do not give my students what they fully deserve.

I know I can do better. I know that I should do better. I am just not always sure how to do that—how to muster the energy and sift through all the things going on in a given day. I know it will not all happen in one day. I will have to focus on a few things, while knowing that I am still not good at others. This will be hard. I am used to wanting everything to be fixed when it is wrong, but I have to prioritize. Otherwise, I will just continue to feel overwhelmed.

I know that it is supposed to be tough, challenging, and difficult, but it is so hard to see past my ineffectiveness right now. Judging by how well my students did on their assessments, I can objectively say that my students are not – or, have not been – learning. But with data, there is with knowledge. And with knowledge, power. And with power, the ability to change course—to change direction. To teach, to learn. To learn to teach. To teach and produce learning. These are possibilities, which, in and of themselves, stretch my lips outward and upward into a hopeful smile.

One day, my children…