I'm already halfway through my first year back to teaching. What a ride it has been! It's every bit as hard as I remember it being the first time around, 20 years ago. Maybe even harder. But it's also infinitely sweeter. I have been very intentional about forming relationships, and that makes a powerful difference in how my students and I respond to one another.
At the beginning of the year, my new colleagues and I took a two-day course on classroom management called "Capturing Kids' Hearts." This amazing program gave me practical tools to accomplish the goals I had already set for myself. I was so excited to put them into practice. This year I would truly capture their hearts. I would have the opportunity to speak life to students who desperately needed to hear that they mattered, to know that they were loved.
During the Honeymoon Phase, all of those dreams seemed to be coming true. I was absolutely delighted with my students, and the feeling was mutual. Doing what God made me to do felt exhilarating, and I wondered why I'd waited so long to come back.
When reality set in, around week four, it hurt so much more after that initial giddy happiness. I felt horribly disillusioned when I found the colored pencils I'd lovingly bought for each group snapped in pieces all over the floor--so that they could throw them at each other, one of my better behaved students gently explained to me. I was indignant when the highlighters I'd bought for use during tests were either swiped or systematically dismantled so that they could throw the fluorescent fluid at each other. I shook my head at my own naivete on the day when I had to lock up all the mini scissors and rulers to prevent injury to my students and perhaps myself. I was most appalled that they would throw the books that I sacrificed to buy for them during my summer stint as an Uber driver on the floor--and then WALK ON THEM. Or worse, throw them across the room at each other.
I'm ashamed to admit that the Bible verse about throwing your pearls before swine crossed my mind a time or two. No, they are not pigs. They are infinite treasures, and I stand by what I told them the first day: it is a blessing and a privilege to be their teacher. But these daily frustrations do wear on me.
A worse problem is their unruliness any time I try to teach a lesson. I'd been advised in numerous training events never to talk for more than 10 minutes, which seemed to be sound advice. Ha!! Ten seconds would be a more realistic goal, some days. I am not exaggerating. There are many class periods when I literally cannot complete a single sentence. With up to 30 students in the room, there are virtually always one or two talking, and when I turn to address that problem, the rest will start in while they're waiting. Over and over, I have to use the time-out signal to call them back to attention. Argh!!
So I find myself relying more and more on technology. If I need to teach new content, I create a mini lesson in PowerPoint, complete with an audio script and animations, and I deliver the lesson using Google Classroom. The students put on their headphones and listen to my lesson without interruption--or they play video games surreptitiously. Either way, I don't have to fight for their attention, and a ten-minute lesson actually takes ten minutes. And hopefully, they're learning something. [It's so funny how long it has taken many of them to realize that it's my voice in the presentations. They were absolutely shocked when I joked with them on a recording, just as I would have done in person.]
So where do the relationships come in? They save my sanity. They enable me to love these kids even when I want to scream at them. They allow me to have fruitful conversations with the most troublesome students when I bring them in after school for a conference.
Honestly, the majority of my students are really wonderful. They are respectful and as attentive as a seventh-grader can be. I believe they do want to learn. It's only a small handful who daily sabotage most of my efforts to create a positive learning environment. And even the troublemakers have earned a soft spot in my heart, for the most part. Sometimes I have to pray that God will help me see them with His eyes and love them with His heart, and He is so faithful to answer my prayers.
The first one I prayed about loving was Analee*. I don't have time to tell you all the appalling and maddening mischief she dreamed up, nor about the foulness that daily issued from her mouth. Suffice it to say that I was secretly relieved on the days when she slipped out of my class and didn't return.
I spent a night or two praying over her in my prayer closet, asking God to change my heart toward her. I felt sure she needed love and attention, and I asked Him to give me a tenderness for her. The resulting transformation literally occurred overnight.
When I passed Analee in the hallway on the way to lunch, a genuine smile lit up my face. I laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's good to see you, sweetie! Why don't you come and eat lunch with me today?"
"Sure, Miss," she replied, grinning broadly.
I escorted her to the front of the lunch line, which brought another grin, and then we walked together up to my classroom. We chatted easily through lunch, and I was surprised at how much she revealed of her troubled past. When she'd finished her lunch, she gave me a tight hug and then went down to the courtyard to hang out with the other kids until the bell.
I didn't see a change in her behavior in the classroom for many more weeks, but a bond was definitely growing between us. Although she continued to skip large portions of my class, she came to my classroom on nearly every passing period to get hugs and try to charm me into letting her stay in my room instead.
"No, Analee. You know I'm an obsessive rule follower. Now give me another hug and go on to class," I'd say.
"Okay, Miss."
On a recent lunch date, she shocked me by saying that she wanted to apologize to Holly*. A week or so before, she'd gotten into a shouting match with her and had dragged Holly partway out of her desk by her hair. Holly had stayed after school the day after, and I'd suggested praying for Analee and the two other girls who had helped instigate the dispute. At first Holly was resistant, but a few days later she excitedly reported that she was praying for the three girls, and she felt so much better. She had even written an apology letter to Analee and was looking for the right time to give it to her. Now, God was clearly working on Analee's heart.
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| Holly decorated my door over the course of several afternoons. (Allyson had made the MAVS poster.) |
After announcing her plans to apologize to Holly, Analee said softly, "I want to apologize to you, too, Miss."
"What for?"
"For acting like an ass in your class that day."
I smiled. I wondered if she'd heard about my tears after I'd walked her to the office. This was the first (and only) instance of violence in my classroom, and I was bitterly disappointed. I'd apologized to my students for getting teary, and several of the girls had wrapped me in a group hug. "This is just... the exact opposite of the vision I have for our classroom," I said, sniffling.
"I forgive you, Analee," I said now, patting her back lightly. "I appreciate your apology, and I hope you know that I always love you, no matter how you behave in class. Do you know that I love you?"
"Yes, Miss," she said, smiling shyly.
Since then, I've noticed a modest improvement in her behavior, and there have even been a couple magical days when she did her work. She still spouts foul words on occasion, but she usually quiets down when I walk up and whisper, "I want to hear beautiful words coming from your beautiful mouth, dear."
Since then, I've also learned that it's good to have a tough girl like Analee in your corner. Shortly before Christmas break, an eighth-grade boy whom I'd never met bowed out his chest and got in my face after I told a group of hall walkers to leave my classroom and go back to their own classes.
"What's your problem?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches from my own.
Before I could find my voice to answer him, Analee stepped out of the group. "You leave her alone!" she said fiercely. "She didn't do anything to you."
He immediately stepped back, his arms extended, palms facing outward.
I smiled my thank-you to Analee, closed the door, and went back to my teaching. When she came for her morning hug the next day, I said, "You've got my back, don't you?"
"Yep!" she said. I gave her another squeeze.
[I reported the incident, and an administrator was able to identify the boy by viewing the security tape. He has since been expelled. It turns out he had been threatening other teachers also.]
Despite dozens of sweet moments with individual students, I've still battled discouragement over classroom management in general. Most days are manageable, but there have been four or five days that made me seriously pine for my old job, the one I could do in fluffy pajama pants in my own bedroom, with only my cats for company.
No matter how bad it gets, though, my Beloved is always faithful to give me encouragement when I need it most.
At the end of one of those horrible days when I wanted to throw in the towel, I found this note from Serena*, a dear girl who apparently gets into lots of trouble elsewhere, but who positively blossoms under praise.
And when I felt utterly overwhelmed by the impossible task before me, I found this note on my chalkboard. It took me a long time to figure out who'd written it (one of the custodial staff), but on the morning I found it, it seemed like a message straight from the mouth of God. I suppose it was.
My last really bad day was shortly after Thanksgiving. It was just as awful as all the others had been, but there was a marked difference. Just like the other times, I cried on the way home and poured out my heart to God. Just like the other times, I woke up the next day with the grace and strength I needed to go back.
I was about halfway to work when I realized something that I later relayed to my students during Good Things, a time set aside at the beginning of class for counting our blessings.
"I had a really, really bad day yesterday," I said. They waited silently. "But that's not the Good Thing.... Do you know what I did at the end of the other three or four really bad days that I had this year? Those times, I wished that I could go back to my old job, because it was so much easier, and I was really good at it. Well, this morning I realized that I never thought about my old job yesterday. That means I am fully committed to this one. It's the hardest job I've ever had, but this is where I want to be. Because you guys are worth it. I am blessed to be here."
Looking at their smiling faces, I realized something else. I don't know that I've succeeded in capturing their hearts, but they have definitely captured mine.
*Names changed to protect privacy.
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