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Teaching Diary: Reflection
May. 8th, 2024 08:21 amI’m coming up on the end of my 13th year as a teacher, and I always have the same fear: I have not done enough for these kids. Today, the thoughts came as I graded high school literary analysis essays. Have I taught them nothing? They still can’t put the titles of poems in quotation marks!
When I’m calm, I understand that teaching is not a one-way street. Children are not automatons to be programmed. I am also not the only teacher these kiddos have. This year, it’s useful for me to think of education like planting a garden. Some of the plants I tend are like mint or bamboo. They will grow regardless of my encouragement/discouragement. Some are cacti, only needing a bit of water. Some need nourishment, some need pruning. Some are still bulbs, and their time to bloom will come, but this is not their season, and that’s not the fault of the gardener.
Some get the wrong things from me -- too much sunlight when they would thrive in shade, a too-small pot, acidic soil.
Some of us teachers are expert gardeners, but only for very specific plants. Some teachers only get the best orchids. Some of us get a mixed bag of seeds. Some of us get weeds. Most of us get a little bit of everything.
But what we really get are humans, and while my role in this time of their life is important, I am not the most important, and so as long as I’ve tried my best (and identified a few concrete things that I can change and improve next season), then I need to cut myself some dang slack!
When I’m calm, I understand that teaching is not a one-way street. Children are not automatons to be programmed. I am also not the only teacher these kiddos have. This year, it’s useful for me to think of education like planting a garden. Some of the plants I tend are like mint or bamboo. They will grow regardless of my encouragement/discouragement. Some are cacti, only needing a bit of water. Some need nourishment, some need pruning. Some are still bulbs, and their time to bloom will come, but this is not their season, and that’s not the fault of the gardener.
Some get the wrong things from me -- too much sunlight when they would thrive in shade, a too-small pot, acidic soil.
Some of us teachers are expert gardeners, but only for very specific plants. Some teachers only get the best orchids. Some of us get a mixed bag of seeds. Some of us get weeds. Most of us get a little bit of everything.
But what we really get are humans, and while my role in this time of their life is important, I am not the most important, and so as long as I’ve tried my best (and identified a few concrete things that I can change and improve next season), then I need to cut myself some dang slack!
