Skip to main content

The Real Thanks

I've taught ninth- and tenth-grade English for the past three years. With the exception of a few students that I've had for credit recovery, this is the first time that I have had a large amount of graduating seniors. Watching them last night at prom, made me realize how privileged I am as a teacher to get to see young men and women grow and mature over four years.

Per the advice from my field instructor in college, I keep a "bad day folder" in my desk at work. I've placed thank-you cards and small notes in there over the past few years, and I have turned to it every now and then, especially on those days that lessons just seem to fall flat. I've come to realize this past week that sometimes our lessons don't take at that moment, but students listen more than we think.

I received a few letters from graduating seniors this week with these messages in them:

"Thanks for introducing me to John Green. I've read every single one of his books."

"Even though I didn't have you for that long, you always pushed me to make my best better."

I can't ask for a better reward than knowing that I've helped create readers and have helped students see more of their potential. I remember the frustration I felt in class when it just seemed like neither got it. I remember the stacks of books that I would set on his desk, and I remember the countless talks I had with the other student, asking her my go-to question when it comes to student work: "Is this something you are proud of?"

As I've seen former students cry in the halls, I've kept my cool this past week until a parent approached me during prom. We were talking about her son's plans after high school because I hadn't had the chance to see him in a while. That's the one down side about having students in the earlier grades: it's difficult for you and them to make time to chat about post-high school plans. In the middle of discussing his college plans, she teared up, turned to me, and thanked me for "getting him through a hard time."

It's at this point that I teared up with her. I had forgotten the conversations I'd had with her son after school. Sometimes it's the smallest, simplest conversations that turn into lessons and change students' lives. It made my night that he and his parents hadn't. Even more so, I know he's heading into the world more level-headed and ready for the challenges ahead.

This is why I do what I do, and this is why I love what I do.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Handwritten Cue Cards in the 21st Century

I just stumbled upon this behind-the-scenes clip of Saturday Night Live's cue card process. This is intense writing. This is writing that is dependent upon trust and checks and balances. Over a short period of time, skits are written, drafted on cards, revised, and the cards revised over and over again. I also really love that SNL continues to use cue cards and not a teleprompter. Like Wally points out, technology can fail. Handwritten cue cards ensure the show goes on. Comedy is hard work. Writing is hard work. Changes are made up until the last minute to get things just right. This is a form of real-world writing.

Don't Be Misled by $778 At-Risk Payments

Governor Snyder recently proposed a $778 increase per economically disadvantaged pupil in Michigan. At first glance, this looks good. Who can argue with an announcement like this: An increase of $150 million, to a total of $529 million, to ensure that children in difficult financial situations are getting the help they need. All districts and public school academies will now be eligible to receive an additional $778 per pupil to assist at-risk students. After all, it's money for at-risk students . We instantly assume that the governor is proposing helping our neediest students, which should make us all jump for joy. And we know from the adequacy study done last year that our poorest students require greater funding (30% more!) to educate if we ever hope to close the achievement gap, not to mention their general recommendation of $8,667 per pupil as a foundation allowance (note that many districts in Michigan still receive far less than this). But the real problem of inequ

MCTE Musings

I always look forward to the last Friday in October. Since my junior year in college, I don't think I've missed a fall conference of the Michigan Council of Teachers of English--and I certainly don't plan on it any time soon. Just as I could feel the stress building this past week, I knew that MCTE, just like other quality days of professional development like summer institutes of the National Writing Project, would be a panacea for so many job-related frustrations and would provide answers for questions I've been wrestling with for months. Like always, I left with my head spinning--and that's a sign of quality professional development. You leave knowing that there's so much more to be accomplished. Your work, despite all the long hours and years of practice, is really only beginning to unfold in front of you. Yesterday, Penny Kittle spoke about how every student is on a personal learning journey, and I'm thinking about how my classroom reflects that. I&