Ten Years of Teaching

*So, next week I will begin my 11th year of teaching, which is really quite unfathomable to me.  I am finally starting to feel a little bit like a veteran, which up until recently was always considered a very good thing for an educator to be.  I've taught in 4 schools, 3 public and 1 private, each of which has been very different and each of which I've thoroughly enjoyed.  I've taught every type of kid imaginable, from hardened gang members to children who dwell in leafy suburbs, from future farmers to sure-to-be future Broadway stars.  I've had the privilege to instruct students of all academic levels, those who could barely read or write at all, those who have gone on to attend ivy-league universities, and all types of kids in the middle.  I've decided that I was born to be an educator, and I have no plans to ever leave a profession I take great pride in. 

Here is a little bit of my career by the numbers:

Smallest class size: 6
Largest class size: 39

Number of preps taught: 12

Number of different tests I've prepared students to take: I've lost count

Number of tests I've really enjoyed preparing students to take: 2 (IB, AP)

Number of years my salary has broken $40,000: 0  (I think lucky #11 might be the first!)

Number of years I have disliked my job: 0

I think that's the most important number of all. Here's to year #11!

*Written 7/2012, Published 2/2013

Bringing a Book to a Gun Fight

Last night two teachers from my graduate program gave a presentation on an idea that fills teachers' hearts with dread or righteous indignation, depending on their personal feelings on the matter: allowing teachers with concealed carry permits to carry handguns into school buildings for both their own protection and the protection of the student body. As I listened, I tried to set aside my own biases -- as this is a subject fraught with very strong emotion for both me and pretty much all teachers at the moment -- and listen to their passionate arguments on why we need to do more to protect students and why "no gun zones" are leaving our most vulnerable members of society prone to despicable acts of mass violence. 

While I agreed with few (probably, actually, zero) of their positions, I saw a true earnestness and, yes, bravery in their desire to protect their students with deadly force, if need be. Both teachers were young mothers of small children and proud concealed carry permit holders, and both said they would be glad to put themselves as the first line of defense against a mad gunman in a school building.

You couldn't help but admire these bold, confident women -- fiercely devoted to both their beliefs and the protection of students. In fact, I could feel myself shrinking a bit before them, my once lofty-sounding goals of instilling a love of literature and learning in kids seriously lacking in scope in comparison with the goal of defending their very lives. I have never pictured myself as a hero -- I leave that to my truly heroic brothers, who are both Lt. Colonels in the Army who have served many tours of duty in both Iraq and Afghanistan -- and now, face to face with those seemingly far braver than I, I felt woefully deficient.

When I decided to be an educator, I knew I'd have to be brave. Facing a room full of teenagers is no easy task, I assure you! I knew I'd have to be knowledgeable, to be competent, to be assertive, to be tough, to be determined, to be demanding. I knew, above all else, I'd have to be kind, caring, and empathetic. I did not know I'd have to be a good marksman, a terrorist negotiator, a stand in for trained law enforcement. I must admit, this all comes as a shock. I feel as if someone has changed the rules of the game mid-play. I feel as if this job of "teacher" is changing more rapidly than I can, or want, to change.

I feel, in short, like I brought a book to a gun fight.  

For now, thankfully, the book is still enough. When it ceases to be, I just might have to leave this fight.