A Sustainable Start : Am I Cut Out to be a Teacher?

"I don't think I'm cut out to be a teacher," I tell Brad.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Maybe I should be in here, brewing liquid happiness for the benefit of others.  I could wear a green apron and I think they give you a weekly allotment of free coffee beans."

"John, you're a teacher," he tells me.

"I'm not so sure," I respond.

"Explain what you mean."

"I'm exhausted.  I'm worn out every day.  I can't imagine that I'd be feeling this way if I was working out of my strengths," I tell him.

"Teaching is exhausting.  You nailed it.  It is a hard job.  Physically demanding, stressful, emotionally draining. But does being tired disqualify you from being a teacher?"

"Maybe not.  But I'm also not good at it.  I tell kids to be quiet and they still talk.  I can't seem to control the class."

"So, you can't control a class?  That just proves that you're not a manager.  You don't control people well. I know you, though.  I know that you can lead a group.  You won't win with control.  But you'll grow into leadership."

"What if I don't?" I ask him.

"You will.  Right now, you're in survival mode and you'll stay there awhile.  However, after survival, you'll hit a point where you begin to feel normal and eventually where you'll thrive.  These are seasons and no amount of hard work can make the season move faster.  It takes time."

"Brad, I'm really not sure I'm meant to be a teacher in the first place.  I don't like bells and referrals and staff meetings where teachers complain about kids.  I don't like comic sans font.  I don't like stickers and awards assemblies and uniforms."

"All you've proven is that you don't like school.  Some of my favorite teachers were the ones who hated school but loved learning."

"So, what makes me a teacher?"

"You're a teacher.  You are passionate about learning.  You get excited about the acquisition of wisdom.  You know how to lead a group. You're a critical thinker.  But I'm not sure that's it."

"So what is 'it?'  What's the defining characteristic?"

"I don't know if there is one.  But if you press me on it, I'd have to say love - love for the students, love for the content, love for the process of turning knowledge into wisdom."

"So, you think it's an issue of identity rather than skills?"

"I do. You had bad teachers in the past, right? Some people aren't cut out to be teachers.  Few people say that aloud, because schools hire non-teachers when they're desperate to fill a slot and universities pass out diplomas like Boy Scout badges. But it's true.  They exist."

Are You a Teacher?

Brad's words sound harsh.  Honestly, I didn't believe him at the time.  Then I paid closer attention to nice people who weren't cut out for the classroom.  I met people who despised the age group that they taught and who had no interest in their subject matter.  Although I think these teachers are rare, they exist and they are toxic to learning.

Forget about the time you've invested in the program, the diploma you earned or the people you've talked to about your plans.  Think about your identity for a moment.

Are you a teacher? 

Are you passionate about learning? 

Do you care deeply about children? 

If you can answer, "yes," to all three questions, you're probably a teacher.  

If you are a teacher, hold onto this identity as closely as you possibly can.  People will do whatever is possible to turn you into anything but a teacher.  They'll try and convince you that you need more word walls or better paperwork skills or a more rigid alignment to a textbook in order to be a "real teacher." Sometimes it's unintentional.  You'll watch staff members who are thriving and wonder if you'll ever be there.  You'll see teachers who are naturally peppy and you'll wonder if you're too cynical.

Other times, it will be internal.  You'll fail badly.  You'll yell at kids. And if you're any good, you won't blame the kids and instead you'll question whether or not the students would be better off without you.  You'll get tired and wonder if this is worth it.  You'll see a lack of progress and if you're not careful, you'll buy into the lie that what you do doesn't matter.

Your Identity

It's two months later. I'm meeting again with Brad, trying to make sense out of my role as a teacher.  I need to be here, among the hushed sounds of blended milkshakes pretending to be coffee; because I am beginning to see the entire world within the confines of my crowded classroom. 

"How is teaching going?" he asks. 

"It's hard.  Really hard.  I'm still struggling with yelling at students sometimes.  I have a hard time with allowing my students to get really noisy, too," I tell him.

"Is it fear of being found out?" 

"Maybe. However, it's more than that.  I get nervous with tons of noise and movement," I tell him.   

"Is it possible that you're teaching out of what you think a teacher should be rather than out of who you are? Maybe you need a lower volume level," he says.

"Is that what students need?" I ask him. 

"I see your point.  However, they also need a teacher who isn't overly-anxious," he tells me.  "There has to be a balance of the need to teach out of who you are and the freedom to learn based upon who they are." 

It's at this point that I give myself the permission that no one else would give me: the permission to be myself, to teach with my style in my voice based upon my convictions.  I can't be Rick Wormelli, Rafe Esquieth or Ron Clark.  If I do, I'll be a cheap impostor.  Even worse, I'll rob the students of a chance to have John Spencer as a teacher.  

So, as long as I can be myself, I'll bust out in song and do strange accents.  I'll add quirky humor at unexpected times.  I'll ask my students to keep their volume at a reasonable level.  I'll dress up as a superhero in a lesson about imperialism.  I'll have share my passion for difficult reading.  I'll engage in debate and dialogue.  I'll wear a shirt and tie, not because it looks more professional, but because it brings back nostalgic memories of seeing my dad get ready for work.  

I'll allow myself to be myself, because ultimate that's what students need - a teacher with a thirst for learning and a heart for wisdom.  

Pretentious, Presumptuous and Perhaps Practical Advice

• Find someone who knows you well who will affirm your identity as a teacher even during the hardest parts of the year.
• Make a list of your personality and character traits.  For each one, figure out how these could be a strength and a weakness.  For example, "I'm funny.  This can help me motivate students.  However, this can also lead the class off-task if I'm not careful."  
• Share your identity with students.  Let them know why you love to learn, what you enjoy doing and the basics of your story. 
• Make a list of your convictions.  For me, the list is small.  Then cling to these without wavering.  Recognize that there are smaller battles that aren't worth fighting, but tell yourself that you will do anything for your convictions, even if it means losing your job.  Students need teachers with courage and conviction.