I've come across many teachers who believe that one of the most exciting things about teaching is that every day is different. New challenges, dynamic students, "never a boring day," and ever changing content are just a few of the cited reasons for this belief. However, when mid-March comes around and you've spent every day of the year pushing students to learn Algebra while forcing them to abide by the expectations of the school, it's hard not to think that every day is the same.
I still have those special days where kids do and say amazing things. Don't get me wrong, I love my students and I love those moments where magic happen in the classroom. Nonetheless, putting those immaculate events aside, teaching freshmen mathematics in a "no-excuse" classroom is both repetitive and exhausting. How many consecutive days can you hound students to get into dress code, use appropriate language, act appropriately, and most importantly, use every one of the 85 minutes in class to learn mathematics. At some point you’re going to hit a wall. What makes the whole dilemma even worse is that you can never let down. You have to break through the wall. Unlike a job where sitting in your cubicle and fake working for an hour or so each day is common practice, there is no room for such downtime in the “no-excuse’ classroom. Burnout is not just an urban teacher problem as many careers face this same point of exhaustion. However, in our profession, the results are not that of bottom line dollars, but that of human life. Thus, we have no choice but to keep pushing and never give up.
Two weeks ago a couple of homeless adults came in to speak with my advisory group of 14 students. They told us their life story, detailing how they reached their personal rock-bottoms, and described the struggles they go through on a daily basis. Continuing their conversations, both men explained their efforts to get out of their situation and the never-ending challenges they face that inevitably seem to lead them back to the streets. I watched as the “homeless forum” sank into some of my students. It made a difference in their thinking and in mine too.
So often, teachers like me dream of the wonderful places our students will end up.
After listening to our homeless guests and reflecting more deeply on their experiences I began to realize who exactly was at risk of joining their ranks. What I concluded was that it wasn’t me. Meaning, middle class kids like myself (I’m 27 by the way), who have a college degree, a strong network of close friends, a tightly knit family, and financial independence and saved assets, are very unlikely to live on the streets. There are so many safety nets that would catch me well before I lost everything should my life turn “bad,” for lack of a better word. If I developed a drug addiction or lost my job or was in a horrible accident I wouldn’t be alone in my recovery, whether social, emotional, financial or physical. There would always be someone there to get me back on track and remind me of the life I am capable of living. In extreme opposition to my situation, take my worst off students. Living with one parent who can barely take care of themselves, major deficiencies in skills and knowledge, lack of social skills and awareness of middle class values, a dysfunctional and broken family, and a network of friends who are in nearly the same situation.
If we, the school, don’t ensure that this child is able to prosper in the highly competitive and demanding world that lies beyond our building’s walls then that student may very well end up homeless one day. My intention in that statement is not to simply be negative and say that our students are doomed to a life of stress and struggle. However, it is my intention to say that the school has more of a responsibility than some of us recognize, especially those outside of urban education.
When I hit that wall of exhaustion where I’ve had it with doing the same thing day in and day out I have to consider the opposite perspective to the wonderful dreams that many of our students will no doubt achieve. It’s our job to not only prepare students to get where they want to go, but to also ensure that they don’t end up begging for money on a street corner and moving from shelter to shelter. I have a college degree, am fiscally sound, a caring and capable family and a group of friends who could help me in a variety of ways should I ever need to rely on them. Our students in many cases may not have any of these supports and therefore have a safety net filled with holes. It’s our job to do everything in our power to ensure that they never slip off of life’s trapeze and hit that shoddy net. If so, it may not catch them.