First Year of Teaching

I remember the smell of pencil dust. Do you know that smell?

The aroma, and yes, for me it was an aroma, that came from placing my yellow pencil in the correctly gauged metal hole,  twisting the handle, feeling the tension on the pencil, and the dust sprinkle from the bottom container, because that seal was not made for keeping dust in. That dust represented words I hadn't yet written, or a test I was about to do well on. It was the promise of writing. Sometimes the sun would hit the dust just right, and it would look like pixie dust.

Pencils are my jam.

I like Ticonderoga pencils best. Their lead is like chocolate, and the erasers work like smooth operators. Mistakes with Ticonderoga pencils feel like an adventure, and a chance to feel a pencil live up to its full potential.

I have always wanted to be a teacher. Since I was a little girl. Well, a teacher and a writer. I am figuring out the seasons and reasons for each of these roles. This year I really dove into the role of being a teacher, by getting hired at a school as a middle school math, English, and Civics teacher.

I am a dress wearing, guitar playing, seat rearranging, journal assigning,TED talk watching, poetry reading, mother of four, teacher. And this had been a challenging year. In the words of Disney's Pocahontas," I learned things I never knew, I never knew.

I've learned about segregation, historically and in reality. I've learned about the challenge of balancing. I've learned the importance of boundaries, and how terrible I am at setting them. I've learned about growth mindset, that tells me I can learn how to set boundaries and become better. I've learned what it means to pray for the students in my classroom, and never tell them. I've learned what I value in co-workers and what makes a delightful student. I've learned not everyone loves pencils as much as I do. Some people forget and lose theirs day after day. I've learned a lot. I'm a good teacher. Not a perfect teacher, but a good one. I have lots of potential. And now I have experience. I almost have one year under my belt.

My rocking blue belt.

Comments

  1. Jennifer ThomasMarch 9, 2016 at 6:32 PM

    Yes, 3/4ths of the year is under your rocking blue belt. Here's to the last 9 weeks...finish strong!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jennifer ThomasMarch 9, 2016 at 6:33 PM

    Yes, 3/4ths of the year is under your rocking blue belt. Here's to the last 9 weeks...finish strong!

    ReplyDelete
  3. UnknownMarch 9, 2016 at 6:58 PM

    As every year draws to a close I look back and know that I'm a better teacher than I was 9 months ago but not as good as I'll be in a year. I think that's the best part of teaching...always learning new things, never having it all figured out. I learn new things everyday and that keeps me coming back for more!

    ReplyDelete
  4. GinaMarch 9, 2016 at 8:21 PM

    I always wondered where the pencils went. It was a mystery......Teaching is definitely a refiner's fire! I'm sure you're doing great! Almost there!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Depression and a Bad Day

Image
Bad days are bad. This is a post about depression. I am going to talk about how I have it, what I feel like in the lows, and what I do to make it through. I am also going to give a some suggestions to help support people with depression. Depression isn't who I am. I am fine 80% of the time. I don't even have to worry about it, except to avoid triggers. I struggle the other 20%. I lose 1%. If I put that into a calendar year, I have 3 or 4 bad days a year.  If you've met me, you might not even realize I have depression. Probably not. It is hard to tell what is going on in someone's head unless they tell you. I am telling you about me. Some people can probably relate, but depression is going to be individual as well. I have 3 bad days a year. Other people have a lot more, some will have less. Most of the time, depression stays at a distance and I live. I take my kids to the zoo. I wash dishes. I prepare meals. Then, I can feel it creeping on. Like a dista...
Read more

Depression and Church Attendance

This is another post about depression. I have been wading through the muck of it for the past few months. For some reason, winters are harder. Science something. SAD something. Blah, blah, blah. It has been a long, cold Nebraska winter. And it won't be over for months. I am still me. I am still the silly one who makes slightly inappropriate jokes. I am still the one who enjoys a Saturday run, and a night out with friends. I am still a mom who makes dinner sometimes, and goes to work every day. I am still me. Just sometimes the depression takes over. It feels like waves in the ocean. I am at the top and then the bottom, and sometimes the waves go up in elevation, and sometimes they go down into a valley. I've been fighting the wave that has been going lower and lower. I am not doing well with the fight, but I keep fighting. Some days I actually feel like I am getting better, and then the next day I am reminded that no, I am actually getting pulled lower. So, this is a...
Read more

Crying after the Trunk or Treat

Image
Last week we had a trunk or treat at my church.  Everyone dressed up in costumes and we ate chili dogs and salad.  There was a fun carnival, and face painting, and friends.  My family dressed up as characters from Peter Pan.  My baby was Peter. My two year old was the most lovely Tink ever to walk the cultural hall floors. My five year old was the politically incorrect Indian girl, Tiger Lily.  My six year old was Wendy Darling, and she kept forgetting who she was in her blue dress and curly pony tail. Ian was Captain Hook, or at least some sort of pirate.  I was an anorexic Smee. (My costume didn't get as much attention as the other ones, so...no stuffed belly). It made all my family themed costume dreams come true. Overall, I had a great time with friends.  My girls loved filling their bags with candy.    But, something bad happened at the party.  I was in line getting my chili dog, holding my baby in one arm, carrying a paper plat...
Read more