I may be fresh out of college, but I am certainly not a Spring chicken. I have raised 5 children and worked for over 20 years as an office manager and administrative assistant before that. I am very experienced.
Yet I find myself failing every day as a teacher. Or, so my colleagues would have me think.
Deep inside I know that what I am doing is the right thing, yet I get chastised left and right for the pettiest of things like allowing a student to use a phone to call their mother. Also allowing my last period sewing class (10 middle school girls) to bring a healthy snack to class. In both instances I made educated decisions based on my ethics primarily as a mom and then a teacher.
In the first incident, a student came to me upset and it was evident they had been crying. The student asked if they could go to the counselor’s office. When I pressed a little bit to find out what was going on it was because they were being harassed by some other students who were spreading false rumors. I let the student go, pass in hand only to have them return because the counselor was busy with another student. They asked to use my phone to call home. “Mom always helps me calm down and feel better,” they said. I let them make the phone call as I took roll and settled down a rambunctious group of 7th graders for their class assignment of the day. Over lunch I mentioned to my lunch colleagues (one of them is my assigned mentor) about the incident certainly not expecting the response I got. Instead of being student-centric as we are taught to do in training, they focused on my infraction. It was an enormous no-no. Never let students use the teacher’s phone I was told. It is too huge of a liability for the school. I was somewhat dubious, but I told them that I would remember this for the future. Yet, deep inside, my mom radar was going off: if this was my son/daughter I would have appreciated the call from them if the counselor wasn’t available. I wasn’t asked once how the student was doing.
The other incident was immediately after the bell rang one morning. I have a very small sewing class of five students. They are well-behaved and industrious with their work habits. One student asked if they could eat a snack they brought. They showed it to me. They added that they hadn’t eaten that morning and they were hungry. I thought for about a second and said ‘ok’. The mentor teacher came by and asked to speak with me. I went out into the hallway. She said that the student could not be eating in class. I took full responsibility for my decision and added that I was making this decision more as a mom. The class is a very small class. I felt all was copacetic. The teacher nodded emphatically that this was an enormous no-no. I took a deep breath and told her that I understood. It wouldn’t happen again.
These are only two events. I fail daily. And I am getting the heat and feeling absolutely horrible. Did I make the right choice to be a teacher? I was a teen last time I was called on so much for things I shouldn’t do. My ego has been bruised: I have managed over 50 people before! I have hired and fired. Does this person even realize how they are making me feel?
Yet, I take the higher road daily and decide to just do as I am told because I am the type to obey and serve. I respect authority to a fault. I am being graded after all as a first-year teacher. I just didn’t know every single move would be judged.
This morning in the middle of the night, I had an epiphany. How was my mentor chosen? I decided to inquire. There is a coordinator (and former teacher) for the district mentoring program who has been in contact with me on a weekly basis since the school year began. She has sat in and observed my classes. I have used her techniques and found them to work without a hitch. She has also been available for me at a moments notice when I have questions. “How are mentors chosen?” I asked her today. She told me that they were assigned by the principal. I am a professional, so I know better than to throw people under the bus irregardless on their unprofessional behavior. I stick to facts. The fact is that I haven’t relied on my mentor. I teach another class across the campus and I have been seeking help from another wonderful teacher who has a classroom adjacent to mine. She and I hit it off immediately. She was a former policewoman and she has the most calm demeanor. I look up to her immensely. She is a little older than me and has years of experience as a teacher. Since most of my classroom management problems arise from those classes that I teach in that wing, she has been a great source of encouragement. She and I are also breast cancer survivors. I mentioned all this to the coordinator. I asked her if mentors could be reassigned because I would really like to have this teacher as a mentor since I have connected with her – that’s if this teacher would even agree to take this on. I have a feeling she will. The coordinator is going to look into it. She told me that they have done this before in the past. I felt hope today!
The take away in all this is: don’t feel bad for what you feel is right despite legalities. Go with your gut. Also, use kindness and take the high road no matter how difficult. Do not stoop to people’s levels of criticism. Rely on your ethics; your heart; and your spirit to guide you.
I should add that I wrote the counselor an email and copied the assistant principal regarding the student who called mom for encouragement regarding the rumors from the bullies. I had a one-on-one requested by the assistant principal who took great interest and care regarding the incident. She had the student scheduled immediately for an incident report and counseling with her the following morning. I also was approached by the counselor. She pulled me aside and said, “you know, you asked regarding what is the protocol in the future if this happens. I don’t really know what the protocol for this is. If a child needs to call their parent for help, let the child call their parent! You did right,” she said smiling. I choked up as she told me this and I thanked her for saying this.
Never doubt the power of a kind word.
Lydia Q. Newcomb 