I woke up this morning in a panic. I cast about me for my
computer, and then calmed down and realized: it was not the day Extended Essays
are due, the vivid mental picture I had of a student conducting her research on
the actual due date was not true, her family was not gathered around me
berating me for an extension, and the student I was visualizing was actually
someone I’d gone to college with, not a real student of mine.
Phew.
A few minutes later and I was grinning. This is the stuff of
which teacher dreams are made on, eh? But I have a newly formed resolution to
re-check in with certain EE students.
I had the funniest interaction with a set of identical twins
I teach. I really thought they were cheating and writing each other’s essays,
but after checking through it with them, I realized, nope. Their writing is
just as identical as their appearances. Whoops. They graciously forgave my
misreading.
My 11th grade English class has fallen in love
with the Socratic Seminar. They’ve began a tradition wherein every time I enter
the classroom after they’re already there, they’ve arranged the desks in a
circle and all coo “Socratic Seminar?” at me. So I’ve rewritten my unit plans
so that they get one at least every two weeks.
My psychology class learned about conditioning, and decided
to condition me against using the word “like” inappropriately. So they clap
every time I say it, in a loud, assertive way, and I’m starting to be
conditioned to... clap about a second after every time I say “like.” Which is
not exactly what we intended, but funny. Pavlov is chuckling.
My seniors had their final classes this week. They have
about two months of self-study, mock exams, and final exams before graduation,
but never again will we be gathered in the same room at 9:30 am, 11 am, and
2:30 pm every week. Being a teacher sucks. You pour your heart into educating
and caring about and building relationships with these kids, and then it’s so
long and thanks for all the dabs.
Two years ago, we started class by my giving them each half
of a quote and making them find the other half. In our last class, I asked them
to each give me a quote, to remember them by. I hung them on the wall by my
desk, and looking at them gives me a deep satisfaction, as I remember what each
kid said they learned and would take away from the course in our final circle.
I sent an 11th grader the briefest of emails,
asking the reason for his absence that day, and received back two paragraphs.
The first explained that he was at a conference on neuroscience and brain
technology. The second was a paean to my character and teaching. As I read
through the list of fifteen adjectives that he was laying at my door, my heart
sank. And then lifted again, buoyed by new purpose. Someday, if I try hard
enough and don’t lose the thread, I’m going to become the person that my
students think I am.
