Friday, March 10, 2017

So Long, and Thanks for All the Dabs

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.

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