Are you doing what you love? When you envisioned yourself as a teacher, surrounded by children in a school bursting with new ideas and creative coworkers, did that mental snapshot include high-stakes testing, anxiety inducing data meetings, and teachers whose spark has lost its luster?
I was especially excited when I finally completed my student teaching and accepted a position at my school. For years I had watched the atmosphere at this campus as my son moved from grade to grade. The teachers were energetic, the theory of brain-based teaching was innovative, and my son loved school. I knew this was the place for me. I barely made it through the interview without frothing at the mouth. Finally, I thought, I will be surrounded by people that share my passion for learning.
My first year at that campus was incredibly deflating. How could I have been so easily fooled? What happened to the energy, the passion, the zest for learning that I had seen as a person on the outside looking in?
Once inside, I discovered myself surrounded by teachers that were buckling under the pressure of a system that seemed purposefully constructed to tear down every good thing they were trying to accomplish. Not enough time, constantly changing schedules, and expectations that seemed to dangle always just out of reach resulted in a group of teachers that were worn down to bare knuckles.
Every day I go to work, I find myself hoping I can avoid certain people. I try to slip unnoticed through the halls, hope my principal doesn't highlight accomplishments in my classroom -- I already feel enough animosity from teachers that have been frustrated with my excitement; I don't want any more rolled eyes, hushed whispers, or cold shoulders. I've had enough. Somehow it is seen as bad to rise above, to hope for more, to continually push the bar. Teachers that dare to break away from the group are seen as dissenters, and not to be trusted.
At this point, I simply want to make it through the year. I love my class; love the energy from my kids, the desire for learning they show every day. We have accomplished miraculous things this year, and I am so proud of their hard work. It is only because of their willingness to try new things and motivation to learn that any of my ideas have found success. I am a dreamer, and these kids -- they are definitely the mechanism that fuels my dreams.
When I began teaching, I believed my encouragement and support would come from other teachers. I believed I would find solace surrounded by individuals all moving forward towards a similar goal. Now I am left to wonder if that was a childish fantasy, or if it is simply time for me to move on. Change seems impossible on this campus. Matriarchs of the school have assembled strange cliques and I don't seem to fit into the mold.
For once, I'm actually happy not to fit in. I enjoy my differentness. I am proud of my ideas and my desire for constant growth. I don't care to gossip and needle the weaknesses of others. I don't have enough energy these days to spend any of it on the ugliness that so many people seem capable of. I have accepted that things aren't always as they seem, I am thankful for the small handful of inspirational teachers I have met along the way, and I am ready to shoulder up against the wind and keep pushing forward. Perhaps a few will follow, perhaps not.
Regardless of my hurt feelings and disappointments, one thing remains true: I will stay true to my beliefs and do what is best for each child entrusted to me. Their future depends on me, and every teacher whose life they light up, one rushed year at a time.
