Always Welcome

Saturday, March 22, 2014

It’s no secret that I came to education alternatively. I didn’t go through a standard education program at a college. I didn’t know from the time I entered college that this was what I wanted to do. I didn’t student teach. I didn’t have courses in curriculum planning before I started.

Sometimes it’s difficult to come to teaching through the back door. During the classes I take now, I often think, “I really wish I would have known about this 6 months ago.” It’s trial by fire, but from what I’ve heard, every teacher’s first year is a lot of that.

Despite the ups and downs of my alternative certification program, one of the things I can’t deny that it has taught me is to be open to feedback. Everyone’s feedback: the principal’s, my coach’s, the chemistry teacher’s, the librarian’s, my 8th period’s, the kid’s in the hallway. It all matters.

Feedback was not always something that was easy for me. Reading an English teacher’s comments on a paper or having my voice teacher tell me that last note was flat elicited tears. The smallest corrections were hard for me.

It’s hard when we take things personally. And the first year of teaching is a lot of taking things personally. My kids scored badly on a test: I didn’t teach them well. My 7th period yells across the room at each other: my expectations weren’t clear. A student refuses to complete his homework: I didn’t make it interesting enough.

What I’ve learned though is that this kind of feedback is not personal. If my ultimate goal is to get my students to achieve at their highest potential, then all feedback is welcome. But I can’t take it personally.

I have an open door policy in my classroom. Anyone can come to see me teach at any time without notice. Maybe it’s the performer in me, but I love having an audience. Even my kids sit up a little straighter and ask a few more questions when someone else is in the room.

I won’t deny that there have been days when I was glad no one else was there (I think every teacher has had those days of, “If you think you know everything, teach yourself!). Most of time though, it’s so rewarding to open up your process and make yourself a better teacher for your kids.

Belated

Sunday, March 9, 2014

I get notoriously excited about birthdays. Specifically mine. To the point where my best friends know to wish me “Happy birthday month” at the beginning of February.

Despite the terrible, freezing Chicago landscape, the people in my life came from near and far to make my birthday so special.

The celebrations started the week before with a fancy schmancy Valentine’s/Birthday/Anniversary dinner. George booked this most ridiculous table in an elevator shaft that overlooked the whole restaurant. Complete with a special fixed menu and our own waiter, the night lived up to its three celebration name.

Then for birthday week itself, I took Friday off work to hang out with Momma who had come into town. We got reflexology massages, ate doughnuts, and planned for a little wine and cake gathering with friends. And oh my goodness if you are in Chicago, do yourself a favor and get any kind of baked good from Dinkel’s Bakery. George and I may have become a little too obsessed with it and drive the 20 minutes to get doughnuts almost every weekend.

George had teased me about my birthday present for weeks. I really really really really really wanted to know what it was, but he’s basically the best surprise planner/secret keeper. I had gotten clues that it was made specially for me and had to be mailed here, but that was all I knew.

Finally, the day of my birthday arrived and he woke me up with the present. As soon as I opened it, I was crying. Not just a tear or two. Like really crying.

He’d commissioned a painting from a photograph of my parents taken on my mother’s 30th birthday. That little photograph was always in my room growing up and it’s traveled with me to New Mexico, Canada, Atlanta, London, and Chicago. It’s the only copy we have.

The painting is so perfect and unexpected and thoughtful. It’s a beautiful portrait of two of the most important people in my life.

Surrounded by family and friends was the perfect way to spend my birthday. Welcome, 25th year. I can’t wait to see what happens.