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OKAY, I was in the middle of typing this post when a former student, who works at the cafe I’m in, recognized me and just absolutely destroyed me with the most wonderful comments. I’m just going to add it here and then you can read about the less mind-blowing, but still important to me, little anecdote about my current kiddos.
Okay, so I started teaching in 2006, freshman English. Shakespeare and Coleridge and all kinds of stuff. I was so new and so nervous. I was in charge! Of these kids and their education! There were gaps! I had no idea what to do with “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and there was no Teachers Pay Teachers to help a girl out. So I taught with lots of passion and some little skill and got through it. I taught for two years, doubted myself and took five years off and went to grad school and believed in myself and went back to teaching.
Today, in 2020, I am sitting in a local cafe, grading writing assignments, musing on my current group of 7th and 8th graders. I didn’t plan to be here, in this town, in this cafe, but it turns out, I was supposed to be here. One of the staff comes to take my plate. I smile at her but don’t really look at her. I’m working, listening to tunes. But she comes back.
“Are you Ms. Touchette?” she asks.
I am. And this girl, who I taught way back in my very first year, when I had only a few inches of head above water, this girl is now an adult. She has written a book that’s going to be published. She said (and I’m paraphrasing because I started crying at this point): you were so nervous but you were so brave. I wanted to be brave like you. You told me I needed to meet literature where it was and find my own way to make connections with it. You made me see the world differently. And now I’m creating my own worlds.
So now I’m a wreck in public. I am so honored and feel so loved by the world right now. And I’m doing good. I’m so fucking LUCKY that I get this proof, fourteen years down the road. Any teacher will tell you that these moments, rare as they are, are worth all the gold (although if you are a legislator reading this, fucking pay teachers better).
And now, about my sweet baby angels in my current class. First, an update — face to face instruction has been postponed AGAIN, this time with March 23 as the start date. I’m hovering between intense anxiety that makes me want to just (redacted because tbh kinda rough) and weird, floaty acceptance. Online teaching when your course isn’t designed to be done this way is easily three times harder than face to face instruction. Making connections, watching the kids to see that moment when they are about to slip under the water or the moment when you see the spark catch and you have a split second to fan it into a flame — this isn’t happening, and it’s what I love best about teaching. It’s exhausting and exhilarating in the same second.
I miss it. I miss the weirdness and brilliance of my students. Kiddos seem to have a harder time, in general, communicating via writing. I mean, it’s my job to help foster that skill. But teaching is a lot like cooking. It’s done best when it’s in the moment, when you can account for changes in environment, improvise and adapt when you run out of an ingredient or, say, drop a whole pot of noodles down the plug when you’re meant to just be straining the water. And then, when you have a manager who is actually a micromanager and wants you to grade something, anything, every day, even if it’s busy work.
Fine. I’ll bite. I assigned the kiddos a daily reading journal. Usually I collect those weekly, but it’s fine. They can turn something in daily. They give me a quick summary of what they’ve read and choose a response question to answer. And here is where I got a little shot of joy today, courtesy of the weirdness and brilliance of teenagers.
My lil student J chose to answer the question about making a connection between what she is reading and another text or quote. She chose this quote: 陪伴是最长情的告白，而守护是最沉默的陪伴 Google translate tells me the quote says: Companionship is the longest confession, and guardianship is the most silent companionship. The book she is talking about? The relationship between two characters in a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book.
She made a good point about brothers being there for each other. But look, I have been watching way too many romantic dramas, and when I see something about confession, I no longer think of my Catholic upbringing. I’m thinking romantic declarations, and maybe I’m a little loopy from sleep deprivation and stress, but this is so fucking funny!
Okay, so I started teaching in 2006, freshman English. Shakespeare and Coleridge and all kinds of stuff. I was so new and so nervous. I was in charge! Of these kids and their education! There were gaps! I had no idea what to do with “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and there was no Teachers Pay Teachers to help a girl out. So I taught with lots of passion and some little skill and got through it. I taught for two years, doubted myself and took five years off and went to grad school and believed in myself and went back to teaching.
Today, in 2020, I am sitting in a local cafe, grading writing assignments, musing on my current group of 7th and 8th graders. I didn’t plan to be here, in this town, in this cafe, but it turns out, I was supposed to be here. One of the staff comes to take my plate. I smile at her but don’t really look at her. I’m working, listening to tunes. But she comes back.
“Are you Ms. Touchette?” she asks.
I am. And this girl, who I taught way back in my very first year, when I had only a few inches of head above water, this girl is now an adult. She has written a book that’s going to be published. She said (and I’m paraphrasing because I started crying at this point): you were so nervous but you were so brave. I wanted to be brave like you. You told me I needed to meet literature where it was and find my own way to make connections with it. You made me see the world differently. And now I’m creating my own worlds.
So now I’m a wreck in public. I am so honored and feel so loved by the world right now. And I’m doing good. I’m so fucking LUCKY that I get this proof, fourteen years down the road. Any teacher will tell you that these moments, rare as they are, are worth all the gold (although if you are a legislator reading this, fucking pay teachers better).
And now, about my sweet baby angels in my current class. First, an update — face to face instruction has been postponed AGAIN, this time with March 23 as the start date. I’m hovering between intense anxiety that makes me want to just (redacted because tbh kinda rough) and weird, floaty acceptance. Online teaching when your course isn’t designed to be done this way is easily three times harder than face to face instruction. Making connections, watching the kids to see that moment when they are about to slip under the water or the moment when you see the spark catch and you have a split second to fan it into a flame — this isn’t happening, and it’s what I love best about teaching. It’s exhausting and exhilarating in the same second.
I miss it. I miss the weirdness and brilliance of my students. Kiddos seem to have a harder time, in general, communicating via writing. I mean, it’s my job to help foster that skill. But teaching is a lot like cooking. It’s done best when it’s in the moment, when you can account for changes in environment, improvise and adapt when you run out of an ingredient or, say, drop a whole pot of noodles down the plug when you’re meant to just be straining the water. And then, when you have a manager who is actually a micromanager and wants you to grade something, anything, every day, even if it’s busy work.
Fine. I’ll bite. I assigned the kiddos a daily reading journal. Usually I collect those weekly, but it’s fine. They can turn something in daily. They give me a quick summary of what they’ve read and choose a response question to answer. And here is where I got a little shot of joy today, courtesy of the weirdness and brilliance of teenagers.
My lil student J chose to answer the question about making a connection between what she is reading and another text or quote. She chose this quote: 陪伴是最长情的告白，而守护是最沉默的陪伴 Google translate tells me the quote says: Companionship is the longest confession, and guardianship is the most silent companionship. The book she is talking about? The relationship between two characters in a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book.
She made a good point about brothers being there for each other. But look, I have been watching way too many romantic dramas, and when I see something about confession, I no longer think of my Catholic upbringing. I’m thinking romantic declarations, and maybe I’m a little loopy from sleep deprivation and stress, but this is so fucking funny!
