First Week, Fourth Year

The first week of a new school year seems to feel the longest.  It was Tuesday this week when I realized it was only Tuesday and it felt like it should be Friday.  Yet by the time I reached Friday, I was getting into the swing of things.

As a veteran teacher (hello, fourth year!), I am enjoying knowing what I am doing some of the time.  When students ask me questions, it is often to rules or practices I have already established, questions that I have already answered in previous years.  Perhaps I am most excited about the fact that each year I feel more and more comfortable in my role as teacher.  I'm not completely at ease with my students, but I feel the most myself this first week that I ever have.  I know difficulties will arise, arguments, tough questions, senioritis, and sass, but I will take it in stride.  Thankfully, the Lord has been giving me the grace over the last few years of letting my students' attitudes dictate less and less how I respond.  I don't take things quite so personally anymore and it is only something that time could help me achieve.

Overall, my classes are pretty good.  My sophomore classes appear fun and respectful and my seniors seem to be willing to listen.  Yet I am going to refrain from naming too many more wholesome traits because it is only the end of the first week.  Time and homework will reveal their true colors.  My mind recalls my first year of teaching as being one of the most stressful and the students who made life difficult for me still stand out in my memory.  It is hard to tell if the classes are really that different or if the difference lies mainly within myself.  I am prone to think it is a bit of both but mostly the latter.

So here is to a good school year, one richly overflowing with blessings and all that the Lord desires to do in His good time.  And if all goes awry, I can turn to the intercession of a teacher who didn't always have the most receptive audience, sometimes aroused anger, and whom we celebrate today--St. John the Baptist.  

Are we your favorite?

"Are we your favorite class?"

I wonder if they are just guessing.  Do they ask every teacher this?  Am I that transparent?  They don't know how I am with my other classes, so I am not quite certain how they could guess this.

"Do you have the most fun with our class?"

I don't want to lie to them.  But I cannot tell them the truth.  I cannot say, "Yes.  You are my favorite class.  You are often the highlight of my day.  I look forward to this class and don't stress out at all about this class.  I love the students.  You are my favorite."  I cannot say this.  Because even if I would swear them to secrecy, it would come out.  At some point, one of them would open one of their lovely, excited mouths and spill the secret.  How would I recover from that?  While I may be permitted to have favorites, they are to be secret favorites.  Ones that are never actually discovered until twenty years later when you run into your students at the grocery store and you see them juggling kids.  Then you can say it as much as you want.  Then it is acceptable.  As much as I may want to tell them now, I cannot.

Instead, I say, "Are you guys done with your assignment?"

"She is completely avoiding our question!  Don't lie--are we your favorite?"

"I'm not going to lie.  You have five minutes left to complete your reading."

They mustn't know.  But how can I help it if they think they are my favorite?  It is hard to argue with the truth.

If I picked favorites...this would be it

I had all sorts of mushy feelings today for one of my classes.  They were working on a word find (with clues from the textbook, of course) and I guess I fell in love with them.

Every class period has its own flavor.  A few people can completely change the tone of the classroom.  And I think I realized today how much I like this class.  I actually spent a few minutes just watching them and smiling.  My heart was filled with this grand protective motherly feeling.  I wanted them to never grow up and to remain just as they are.  It isn't often that I wish that for sophomores in high school.

This class interacts well with each other.  The students are young but fairly mature.  As they worked on the word find, a few of the boys were singing a song.  Another couple of boys were a little off to the side, working in a pair, and their conversation was so random but just very comfortable.  They like to talk at times, but they are respectful.  There are some really solid girls in that class--confident but not overbearing, smart but not trying to trip you up.  They answer my questions when I ask them.  When we do "contemplative time" (ten minutes of silence to contemplate a prompt I give them), they ask to do it again the next day.  I took them outside if they promised to not tell any other class and I believed they kept their promise.

Perhaps on Monday I will realize that these feelings were the fleeting result of Friday tiredness and a lucky day.  Yet I believe they will endure.  They are filled with a lovely joy, a bubbling energy, but tempered with some introspection and genuine heart.

Thank you, Lord.  May they always remain so.