Graduation Day

In January 2006 I got hired as a teacher. I worked hard. I cried a lot. I smoked more cigarettes in a day than ever before (keep in mind I NEVER smoked during school hours). I questioned myself as a teacher and even as a person...daily.

Minus the 9 months that I was pregnant (I did not smoke at all, rather I cried more), this pattern continued for the next two years.

It was a rough 2 1/2 years.

There were accolades of sorts, but usually the accolades came far and few and most of the time the kids only showed appreciation the next school year when they now hated their newest set of teachers and wished they were in your class again.

God seemed to answer my prayers that year when he sent me and the hubby to Florida and allowed me to take a break from the career that I had always wanted.

Last year, after the hiatus, I returned to the work force at a new school in a grade level I was comfortable in. I would be lying to say that it was soooooo much better. But it was better. I had a great team that allowed me to lean on them when I was clueless and when I was faltering. I had a 6th bell that even in the worst of times, they were my joys.

But I still had days when I would ask my husband what I was doing wrong. I needed a thank you. I needed an 'atta boy every once in a while. Both my hubby and colleagues said, "When you teach high school, you won't usually get those until graduation night...sometimes even later."

So this summer I pondered what other skills I had. What other job could I do if teaching killed my soul before it killed my body? I had always wanted to be a teacher. I was 4 when I told my mom I wanted a chalkboard. I was 7 when I made my first worksheet.

I was a great waitress at one time...but my body wouldn't let me go there again.

I have a KILLER answering phones voice (or so I have been told a tim or two)...but that would never keep me busy enough to justify me being away from the Bug 8 hours a day. (Plus is there a job you can JUST answer phones? Usually they require typing and well 28 wpm and 1 handed typing is not going to get me anywhere.)

So with my head hung low I returned to a new year. I psyched myself into believing I was excited, but in actuallity I was scared. I had a new team. A new room (this was actually a good thing). A new grade level. And even a new floor.

But something has happened...

They like me. They really like me!

My team is great. The students are FAR from wonderful and they are still no bell 6, but there are kids who I have touched and they have said "Thank You"...already. And these aren't your nerdy little freshmen.

DF told me my class was bullshit 4-5 times the first day he showed. He walked out at some point. He is a 18 year old freshman, and he thought my public speaking class was a freshman class and he was having no part in that. I was so angry that first day, but when he showed up 2 classes later, I laid low with him. And when he was much better. I told him. A couple classes later he showed up on time. Today in class he joked with me and stated that I was one of the few classes he showed to. (Not exactly "Thank you" but I'll take it. )

BB showed up day 1 in my honors class. I prejudged her. I could tell she was going to be a hardass who would probably make the class difficult. I had seen her in the halls earlier being Miss Toughgirl and disruptive. Yet, I noticed that once inside the 4 walls of the class she was a different person. Vulnerable. Calm. She did well on her first quiz. I let her know that I had figured out her secret: She might be hard and tough in the halls and with her friends, but she was smater than what her friends knew. I told her secret was safe with me...until she got in trouble. Since then, she emails me every other day with a "hello to her favorite teacher" and stops by 2-3 times a day. (I'll count that as a thank you)

Final JS. He is again in my Honors class, but I can tell that he will struggle. He has the wandering eye that sometimes wanders onto other people's work, but more often just into "I don't know what the heck I am doing" outer space. I pulled him in the hall and told him that he had to let me know if he was struggling. He had to talk to me. He ended the conversation with a thank you and as I turned around to go back in--he hugged me. I was caught off guard.

Today was my graduation day. In one day, I felt all 550 kids that I have taught hug me. Even Bell 8 from last year. Even my 15 year old 6th grader who on my second day ever made me cry. Even the girl who called me "a fat bitch" in the hall 4 years ago.

This is me hugging them back.

Sidenote: I have now been smoke free for almost 2 1/2 years.