A Note To Myself As a First-Year Teacher

The following is a note I'm writing back to myself before entering my first year of teaching.  This might be a bit cheesy, but I do this every so often to think about my own journey.  I thought this would be a fitting post given the fact that A Sustainable Start will be out in a little over a week.

Dear John,

Right now, you're worried about bulletin boards and lockdown procedures and how to organize your papers the best.  You're worried, too, about whether the kids will like you.  I know, it's not supposed to matter, but it will.  It will always matter.  You won't tell anyone (perhaps not even yourself) that you're scared.  Really scared.  And rightfully so.  You're entering a difficult and important profession.

You want to be affirmed right now, but I'll warn you not to seek it out.  Principals will offer notes upon notes of positive feedback.  Some of it will be helpful, but ask the students.  They're the ones who know you best.  Then step away from the surveys and focus on what you know about yourself.  You're a teacher.  It's your identity.  You will fail more than you can imagine this first year and that's okay.  Really.  You're a teacher.

Teaching will force you to deal with your own humanity. You will yell at kids. You will shame kids. You will punish the whole class even when you promise that you'll never do that. But you will also apologize. You will offer words of truth that students have never heard. You will affirm not only their work, but also their character.  Don't let shame define you in those darker moments, John.  You're a teacher.  First-year failures won't change that.

Teaching will force you to cry.  After years of trying to train yourself to "man up" and avoid tears, this profession will peal away that mask.  You'll cry over your inability to be perfect.  You'll cry because you've used your words to hurt children in the name of discipline.  You'll cry because you'll feel raw and tired and worn-out.  You'll cry because you'll hear stories of tragedy and resilience and hope.  Students will trust you with "what's really going on" and you'll feel powerless when the only thing you can do is listen and pray.  But John, some of those kids will come back to visit.  They'll be high school and college students and you'll find out that listening and praying are far more powerful than you could imagine.

You have great ideas right now.  You have some great strategies.  You are an inherently creative, critical thinking, compassionate person.  You're going to get a chance to bring out some of those traits in students as well.  Don't shy away from hard questions.  Don't be afraid to integrate the arts.  Right now, you're already read to compromise what you believe.

You've heard too many veterans say, "forget everything you learned in college."  Don't do it.  They've already forgotten what they learned and that's why they shouldn't be teaching.  The Packet Masters and Worksheet Warriors are make-believe teachers.  And here's t  he thing: they don't even represent most teachers.  But they hold the loudest voice in the staff lounge.  Try your best to tune them out.  Cling to what you know works.  Take some risks, knowing that you will fail.

The system will try to acculturate you into a standardized approach.  Don't compromise.  Go ahead and do the Word Wall and the Blackboard Configuration and the lesson plan format.  You'll feel like a robot.  So be a Rebel Robot.  Teach critical thinking.  Integrate art.  Move from grades to assessments.  The authentic approach works and ultimately the people in power will see that it works.  When they do, they'll hail you as a Solution Guy.  Don't let that get to your head.  You're kind-of not a big deal and that's a good thing.

I wish this year could be easier for you.  As much as you will love the classroom, you'll have to grow into it.  Honestly, the growing pains will be painful (come on and show me that smile again) but I know you well enough to realize that even when it gets difficult, you will remain passionate.  You will wake up each morning feel like the luckiest man in the world.  You'll be right, too.  You're at the start of a really cool gig, John.

Sincerely,
Self