As of last Tuesday, all of my grad school applications are in. Now it's the waiting game; though, I think I have plenty to keep me distracted while waiting. I started a countdown to the end of school and more than half the time, I forget to cross off the days. Yes, I am counting down...I have to make it through the next 4 months.
I've been meaning to write in my blog, but every time I sit down to begin an entry, I draw a blank. Or, my brain is swimming with all the things I should be doing instead. Last week was a train wreck at school. I'm sure part of that had to do with the fact that I was sick.
Ever since I began teaching in August, I've had this internal struggle with how to make myself a better teacher regarding instruction and classroom management (the latter taking precedent for obvious reasons). I cannot count how many times I have second-guessed and/or changed my methods to make things better for my students, and after a certain point, it all seems a little hopeless...well, more than a little. It is a struggle to stay positive teaching in neighborhoods that breed violence and destructive behavior; an environment without goals or positive reinforcement, where drug lords can offer the people more protection than the police. Where parents could give two shits about their child's behavior at school (especially in a white woman's class), let alone their academic achievements, period. After all, most of these parents are my age, if not younger.
Often, I hear people say, "Oh, but if you only save one, then it's worth it....", or "Your job must be so rewarding despite the challenges", or "Well they must LOVE art class". This is all very idealistic. Perhaps I am too young or too naive to truly understand those statements, but from what I understand at this point in time, it feels and seems like bullshit. In fact, I am angered a little when people generalize like that. I'm not sure people understand how bad the system is or how rapidly this part of our culture is declining.
To go to work is becoming more like a ministry or a community service experience. And I know it sounds like I absolutely hate my job, but this is not so. I think I'm angry because I know that I cannot fix things or people (let alone a dilapidated neighborhood/community). If I had it my way, I would give all the attention, care, and love that I could to my students...adopt them. But I can't. And I have 40 minutes, once a week, to teach them about art; that is my contact; that is my opportunity to connect, on some level. I suppose all I can do is hope that something sticks, and let go.
2 comments:
Catherine, your work is tough, I'm sure. I'm sure it feels like you're swimming upstream. But, I think, at some point, you will say something that sticks. I can't tell you how many times I heard stories of something my Dad said that stuck with people... like telling a little girl at breakfast that she had beautiful brown eyes.
So, have faith that the Lord will work through you and do you best to get through the day. You're not trapped there. You can leave tomorrow if you want to. So, if you're staying then it must be for some reason. And the Lord will use your kindness and compassion to change hearts. Maybe not visible within the 40 minutes a day, but within a lifetime, I'm sure of it.
When people say that bit about "if you reach just one..." they might not realize just how difficult it is to reach that one. And how will you know it? I'm not sure which age group you work with, but how will you know when a young child has been inspired? They might not tell you. My students, adults, will tell me when I've done something good for them. Kids might not know until much later in life how much you helped them.
I think the best approach is just to do your part. Give these students a positive role model, give them a place where they feel safe to express themselves and talk to you and talk to other kids. If you think about the big picture, helplessness sets in.
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