I can see why teachers harden their hearts. I think it is a defense mechanism because everyday we know that walking into a classroom means accepting (or denying) the decisions our students make, both good and bad. It means being judicious in the way that we are tolerant, whether we are talking about ignoring or prosecuting a small action of throwing a pencil across the room, or whether we are talking about something bigger than that.
The other night at dinner, we were laughing about junior high being the most difficult age group to work with because they are constantly trying to get away with behaviors that are not acceptable in the classroom (and that make the job difficult)- hitting the girl they have a crush on, saying a bad word loudly enough that they get a laugh, standing up for the billionth time when you have instructed them to stay seated, etc. We laughed and said, "Yeah but in high school, when they get in trouble, they REALLY get in trouble."
I have several 17 and 18 year old kids whom society deems "delinquent." They are sleeping around without considering the consequences, they are vandalizing property, they are doing and dealing illegal (and sometimes legal) drugs. Every year I have to talk to at least one girl about making good decisions when it comes to her emotional and bodily health. And when she makes the poor decision in spite of our discussions, I am there to help her "decide" what to do about the consequence. With boys, I generally have the prison discussion - as in you've made a bad decision, you've experienced the consequence. Where are you going from here?
The students come to teachers with their burdens. They trust us to be the voice of wisdom, and to know that when the boundaries in their lives haven't held, new stronger boundaries must be established, even if that means contacting school counselors or law enforcement. How many times have I wondered whether or not I am doing a kid a favor by "doing the right thing" in contacting the necessary enforcers? How many of those kids then go home to a worse circumstance because I've intervened? I rarely see the end result.
I was told that Tim P., one of my students on last year's litmag staff, died Friday. His body was found on Saturday. He overdosed on drugs of some sort. Tim was one of those who was constantly in my room talking about his life and the decisions he was making. In fact, he came by last week. I was annoyed at the time because I had a million things to grade, I was sick from being pregnant, and though I tried to act interested in what he was saying, I was clearly acting. I listened as he told me about some of the good things he was doing with his immense creativity and intellect and was semi-tolerant of some of the bad things. I'm sure I gave him the "teacher look" of disapproval because he hastened to talk about mending the bad things. It was hard for me to not roll my eyes and say, "Tim, Dammit! You are at it AGAIN! What in the hell is it going to take for you to stop making stupid decisions? How many times are you going to come in here for confession when what I say clearly fixes nothing?" But then that isn't my job, right?
When he left, I sort of felt relieved. I didn't say anything negative to him. I didn't establish stronger boundaries for him. I supported his good decisions, and told him that he could come back to visit anytime, though I only half-heartedly meant it. Tim, after all, was a delinquent. He was an adult who continued to make bad decisions, but who clearly needed some sort of edification since he was coming back to his high school teacher for guidance.
I don't think Tim's death was a suicide. And though I know I have no logical reason to feel responsible for it, emotionally I do.
What is my job, exactly? Define it for me! I can't be effective in the classroom if I have no emotional care for their well-beings! Yet, I can't save them all. I can't bring all of them home with me. So what the hell do I do?
Another wall is under construction around my heart simply because I'm human and I can't take on the joys and burdens of loving my students. Hopefully when all of my idealism is gone and the fortification around my heart is such that I don't have any compassion left.. Hopefully then I'll recognize that I need to find a new career. Otherwise, the community will be stuck with another defeated teacher robot.
4 comments:
I wouldn't be who I am today without your love and guidance through those awkward junior high years.
Ginger,
As educators we expect our advice to be taken, but tragically that seldon really happens. I am terribly sorry and saddened by the choice that Tim P. made. The operative word here, though is choice. We can advise, discuss, and try to iluminate our students ability to make the right choices, but ultimately, they decide what they will do when they walk away from us.
As teachers, adults, individuals with more experience in the world, it is hard for us to understand why advice is not heeded, but we have no control over that. That is what we have to accept. That is where we must realize there is no magic wand that comes with our license, and that is hard.
I don't think the general public realizes the physical and emotional toll that teachers endure. The fact that we want to save them all, to make their lives better is who we are and teaching is more than a career or job that we go to every day. It is difficult, draining and all encompassing. For that reason, we must fight the possibility of becoming robotic, which in reality would make our lives much easier. When we became teachers, it wasn't to have a job that was easy, it was something inside of every one of us that we had to do. If one child is saved or turned to the positive road, then we have accomplished a great deal. We had a part of making a life better, and isn't that why we do, what we do?
Hang in there, Mrs. H. Concentrate on the possitive.
YOU are not a robot.
Hugs,
Aunt Cyndie
Tim's death was not accidental.
Oh, Ging. I am so sorry. And what about that last comment? Did you find out something more?
We'll talk soon.
L
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