Things for Teachers

I stood by her group to monitor what was going on, redirecting them. “Did you hear Bridget’s idea?”

Yelling erupts from the other team. “Ms. D, can we split into 3 teams? They can just be their own team?”

I kneel and quickly tell Bridget I’ll be back in a moment to check in. I walk over to the other team. “No,” I say, keeping my eye on the first team to make sure no one is shunning Bridget again. “What’s the issue here?”

Two team members start yelling at each other about what roles they are choosing to play in the debate. “He said he was going to do the closing statement and now he wants to do the main argument just because his friend is doing the main argument!” one girl yells.

“I need you to calm down,” I said, motioning my hands downward as if to imitate lowering her voice. “Yelling at your teammates is disrespectful.”

The teammate responds just as aggressively: “They came up with the main arguments yesterday after they yelled at me so I didn’t know I wanted to do it!” I put my hand out to him as well and remind them that if we are going to have a conversation it needs to be done at the appropriate level. Both my hands are out when a student asks me to use the restroom; out of my other ear, I hear the other team calling for me again.

It’s been 2 minutes.

1:50pm. The bell rings for the end of the day. One student from 8th period is hanging around my desk and asking about missed work; I stand over my desktop to make sure I put in attendance from 8th period and check my e-mail from the day. Another student is lingering by the desks.

A girl walks in that I have earlier in the day. After her class had ended, she had stuck around for a bit longer than normal suggesting that she wanted to talk about things, so I told her to come after school. She seemed reluctant, like she wanted to talk but she was embarrassed to. I insisted she come.

As she walked in, she saw other students were in the room and began to back out. She waved at me hesitantly.

The student lingering by the desks comes up to me with a paper in his hand. “Can you hang on a moment?” I ask him and rush after the girl.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask her. She is continuing to walk but doesn’t say anything. I stop and let her keep walking. “If it’s not, I’ll be here,” I call after her.

I go back in the room. “Sorry,” I say to the lingering student. He asks about an upcoming assignment and I explain to him that it’s been postponed due to scheduling conflicts.

Another teacher walks in. “Do you have extra colored pencils?” I’m walking to get them when the girl comes back and quietly sits down in the back of the room.  I have a pile of essays that I need to grade, but I know I’m going to be counseling this student through her life issues for the next hour or so.

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I wanted to write out these snapshots of my day to try and illustrate the type of stress that teachers deal with on a day-to-day, hour-to-hour, minute-to-minute basis. I don’t think that these snapshots accurately portray what is actually going on in my classroom and the split-second decisions I am constantly making. I also do not want to try to put the stress of teachers above others- it is not a competition. I’m sure being a surgeon, or a financial adviser, or serving at a restaurant is stressful, too.

However, the types of situations that teachers need to juggle every moment of everyday vary so widely that I’m not sure people outside of the classroom understand fully what it truly means to be a teacher: I don’t get to school a few minutes before it begins, teach my lessons and go home (today, in fact, I was there from 6:30am to 4:30pm- the school day runs from 7 to 2).

I’m trying to fill out a request for copies as a student is discussing her Facebook-friend-drama with me.

I’m writing out a library pass while on the phone with a counselor trying to arrange a time to call DYFS since one of my students implied abuse at home; another student is asking me to go to the bathroom and another has their hand up with a question about the assignment they are working on.

I have to teach about the crisis in Darfur or the Industrial Revolution while a student is sitting there worried about her mother selling her (the student’s) body away in exchange for drugs.

I’m handing a student a quiz about the French Revolution, but she complains to me that she hasn’t eaten in the past 24 hours due to conflict with her family.

One student is asking me to check their work while I catch another breaking into tears across the room. I try to pull him into the hallway; the phone starts to ring- the office needs a student who’s out at the bathroom. “Send her as soon as she’s back,” they say.

I’m finishing grading an essay when the bell rings to mark the end of my prep period. I hear students yelling in the hallway- “Well FUCK HER! I’m gonna get that bitch,” and see a student fly by. I run out the room and down the hallway to stop a potential fight. 3 minutes later, the bell rings and I’m calmly asking my class to take their seats and start their warm up question, my heart still racing.

In between my lessons on Napoleon, I’m trying to contact the appropriate administrators because I’m pretty sure one of my study hall students has weed on him with the intent to sell to others. Later that same day, in the midst of creating a quiz after school, I find a knife in a bag a student left behind.

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All of these anecdotes are true, and just bits and pieces of my last 3 years in teaching. My purpose in these anecdotes is to show as I am trying to succeed in teaching history to my students-- and going through the day-to-day procedures of planning, grading, and creating that goes along with it-- I am dealing with true issues. My students don’t come to school ready and eager to learn, most of the time; they come from homes with no electricity, they come hungry, they come beaten and tired, if they are even coming from a place they can call home.

In between grading papers, I am counseling. In between answering questions, I am policing. While I am trying to teach them to write a thesis statement, they are worried about being bullied on Facebook. I am managing students that are often cursing me off and walking away while I must remain professional- and try to make sure the rest of my class is still on task.

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While you vilify teachers, please remember what we do outside of having summers off and providing your children an education (although I think that is an important enough job). I am making sure your child is emotionally sound, safe from drugs and weapons, and learning, while simultaneously managing 25 other students who need to go to the bathroom, who have a question about the lesson, who are trying to hand in their late work, who are asking to see their grades (who I will also monitor to make sure they are emotionally sound, safe from drugs and weapons, and learning...)

I have cried for your children. I have fed your children. I have taught your students lessons about current events, about writing, about life. I have been hugged in return. Cursed off in return. Sometimes, I get a thank you, but not often.

I do this all day, every day, all at once.