"You're Going to be Miserable!" and Other Negative Assertations

Recently, I had the opportunity to teach in my placement classroom while my students had a substitute teacher. It was a great experience to teach on my own. The students were engaged with the lesson, they asked questions, and most of them got their work completely done. I didn't have to give out any detentions; it was a great class period. I was feeling pretty good!

However, this particular substitute teacher had taught on her own for two years and decided it wasn't for her. We talked a little between classes, which is when I expressed my excitement about teaching and having my own classroom. She responded with a resounding, "You're going to be miserable!" She explained all of the hard work it takes, and how the first year of teaching is pretty awful. At first, I was offended. I am well versed in how to take on hard work and I am a firm believer that I can do whatever I set my mind to. It's hard to admit, but I was also a little frightened until I remembered all the support I have from my family, friends, colleagues, and mentors. I replayed the conversation in my mind throughout the day and as I did, I realized that her exclamation was not so much about me, about my abilities to teach, or about my work ethic. As I continued to think back on this conversation, I realized that this woman was simply telling me what many others had told me in the past.

There are many people out there who do not understand why I want to be a teacher, let alone why I would want to teach middle schoolers. When I tell people I want to teach middle school, I often get a wrinkled nose, a shudder, or a comment like, “Well, someone has to do it.” I try to explain that middle schoolers are so cool. They are funny, honest, and for the most part, willing to learn. I am continually amazed by my students, even the “tough” ones. These students are the reason that I keep going back after a particularly rough day; when the storms--figuratively and literally (we all know students get squirrely when the weather changes)—create chaos and havoc in the classroom.

As I reflect on why I want to teach middle school, I’ve realized that it is not my job to defend why I want to teach or why I want to teach middle schoolers. My job is to actually teach them to the best of my ability. There will always be people who don’t understand why I want to do this, just like I don’t understand why someone would want to be an engineer or a mathematician. And while I no longer feel the need to defend my choice, I do feel the need to try to help others understand better. So, the next time someone wrinkles their nose or asks why in the world I would want to teach middle schoolers, I’m going to try to explain: just like they are passionate about their work, I’m passionate about mine.

Confessions of a Student Teacher

Confession time. I have realized as I round out my third week of pre-student teaching that I have so much to learn: My students have questions for me that I don't have answers to; problems arise in my classroom that I have a hard time finding solutions to; I have questions for my mentor teacher that don't always have an easy answer; and sometimes, I really do have to give a student detention, even if I feel badly about it.

These are all things I am working out as I learn and teach. Students ask me questions that continually remind me that I do not know everything. In fact, at times I feel that I barely know anything. I decided this week that instead of trying to come up with an answer, that I would be honest and transparent with my students. I told them that I didn't know, or that I wasn't sure--but that I would try to find out and that they should try to find out as well. This worked marvelously! I am constantly being reminded that middle schoolers love honesty! They totally accept that I don't have all the answers--and it takes a lot of stress off of me as well.

Put fifteen to twenty middle schoolers in a room together: mixed genders, races, and identities. What do you get? In my classroom, the answer tends to lean towards chaos. One thing I have noticed about my seventh graders: they are never still. They are leaning back in their chairs, drumming on their legs, or tapping their pencils. Oh, the tapping of the pencils. The sound of twenty pencils tapping to twenty different rhythms is enough to drive anyone mad. If I had a nickel for every time I ask a student to stop tapping...

This became a problem in the room. I was being driven crazy, my mentor teacher was being driven crazy, and I'm sure at least a few of the students were close as well. A fellow student teacher suggested giving the students pipe cleaners to tap instead of their pencils. I wasn't sure if it would take. I prefaced giving out the pipe cleaners with, “Tap with this instead of your pencil. Be sure it doesn’t become a distraction.”

IT WORKED!

….For about five seconds. Within a few minutes of receiving a pipe cleaner, my more “rambunctious” students were twisting them, throwing them in the air, or throwing them across the room. Apparently my definition of a “distraction” is completely different than a seventh grader’s. Let me give a sample of the dialogue after a few were twisted and thrown:

Conversation with Student A:

“Hey, please don’t twist up the pipe cleaners; I would like to reuse them.”-Miss Bryan.

“You have to reuse these?”-Student A.

“Yeah. What do you think I am—made of money?”-Miss Bryan. (This garnered a giggle from the student and resulted in a once-again straight pipe cleaner.)

That conversation went pretty well. I tried to apply understandable reasoning to my request. However, once a pipe cleaner was thrown across the room, I started taking them away and giving warnings to students. I realize now that the best thing I could have done is the one thing I neglected to do: set up a classroom protocol for the pipe cleaners. I should have started with something like this:

“I’ve noticed that the pencil-tapping has gotten excessive in our classroom and can be quite distracting. If you feel the need to tap your pencil, I will give you a pipe cleaner to tap with. Please keep the pipe cleaners the way I give them to you: do not bend, twist, or cut them. If you throw them at someone or across the room, you will not be allowed to have one anymore and you’ll get an Off Task Card.”

My plan is to try this again tomorrow, with the aforementioned classroom procedure. I will post an update on how it goes!