I can have all the adrenaline and energy for the students I want but the crash must come eventually. I am exhausted.
It is, however, a good kind of exhausted. I remember last year being home at this time feeling the bad kind of exhausted: completely overwhelmed, terrified and anxious to prove my power. I remember these first two days as being exciting but awkward and full of questioning. Do I wander around and talk to students, do I leave them to make their nametags, do I go over the syllabus immediately, do I cover rules, do I let them just "be"? What the heck do I do?
In college classes, they said it without really saying it: you will never be prepared for your first day of school until you just do it.
I had a lot of thoughts about what to do this time around. Truth be told, I'm not a huge ice-breaker, "fuzzy wuzzy" (citing my department head) kind of person. The idea of having to get up, forcibly mingle and talk categories from favorite ice cream flavor to deepest darkest secret actually terrify me. That's the possible downfall for my extroverted students having an introvert for a teacher (though they wouldn't guess it as I can turn on my energy the second they walk in). Perhaps for the introverts, though, it is a blessing.
However, I didn't want to just get away without getting to know these kids. I'm not a "teach from your desk" person. I love moving around and instituting proximity control. My knees ache from kneeling down by desks to get at eye level (even for 5' 1", it's surprising how much this helps). I love hearing about their lives and learning about their greatest aspirations and darkest fears.
...I just didn't know how to do it last year.
So I borrowed two ideas and went with it. One was an idea from first year me combined with the first day of student teaching. The second was from a more veteran teacher in our school.
Students came in. I bounded in like a jack rabbit and welcomed them in my typical teacher crazy self. Nobody believed me when I said I was tired by 8th period. This is who I am: set me up in front of students and I am a ball of extreme energy. The second the door closes, I sit calmly at my desk and listen to Dvorak's New World Symphony, occasionally humming.
Obviously, we need to know names. Not just for me but for them: I center my lessons around inquiry and discussion. They must be ready to speak to each other and listen to each other. Enter the Name Tag (idea #1).
It is simple with a twist. Students were required to make a name tag with their name, three images/words that describe them and an inspirational quote on the back (so that whenever they opened it there was always something inspirational and uplifting staring back at them). Some bought into it and took their time. Others scribbled with pencil and took our their phones as much as possible. I had one student say this was the most difficult thing he had ever done ("Why are we taking the final on our first day?!" Bless his heart). After denying two inappropriate quotes, I allowed one student to use a Chewbacca quote ("Uuuuuuuuuhr, Ahhhhhhrrrrr").
The next step threw some of them momentarily. I asked them to stand at their desk and present their name tag to the class. They needed to explain why they chose the images/words, read their quote and explain why they chose that as well. My extroverts were fine and enjoyed being the center for 15 seconds; my introverts stared at me with wide eyes of betrayal. And yet as of now, I only had one student unable to complete the task. We ripped the band-aid off and had our first classroom discussion. They don't think they did but they absolutely did.
This took up about 40 minutes of an 85 minute class period. Last year, this would have panicked me and I would have had another (cringe-worthy) icebreaker lined up. I mean it, I don't like icebreakers.
So I decided to try something new from a veteran teacher.
I grabbed a notebook, wrote down every student's name, walked up to a student, sat or knelt next to them and invited them into a one-on-one conversation. Once again, some were a little thrown that I was going to do this. I was a little thrown myself. I'm a person who can't comfortably make a phone call without writing out the entire script of what I'm going to say (and possible responses to expected questions I will receive).
Here's what I found: my students were honest with me and I learned valuable information that will allow me to make my teaching better.
I had students who were simply there because they needed to be there but slowly opened up that they hate writing because they have no idea how to write a thesis. I have students who are taking as many classes as they can to graduate early and are concerned about keeping up with everything. I have students who love English and can't wait to get reading but completely panic at the thought of presenting anything in front of the class. I have students who were shockingly honest about their learning disabilities and offered me ideas to help them. I had students talk with gusto about their sport, instrument, pet cat or car and be authentic about why they were in school. I had previous students tell me how relieved they were to have me again and still tell me what they hated about our class last year.
I learned a lot about my former students in my first year. I have never learned so much from students than I did today.
Admittedly, I ended up not getting to everyone, which was cause for altering my lessons tomorrow and Wednesday so I can get to every single person in the class. Because this was probably the most authentic I have ever felt as an educator yet.
I talked about this with my husband and he proposed another idea. He decided to buy a notebook for each class and keep ongoing notes from constant conferences with his students. He could use these notebooks for parent teacher conferences, reflections and to show students their growth and progression. He has made it clear that he wants to do everything to get to know his students this year.
Well, my teacher philosophy is that begging, borrowing and stealing are code words for collaboration.
So now I have a few pages with some preliminary notes on my classes. But I also have six unopened composition notebooks that I plan to cherish and pour over this year as I use them to work with my students even more. I can't say just yet how I will set up my conferences, but even a check-in now and then is better than nothing.
I think last year, I walked into my classroom terrified of my kids. So terrified that I let an amazing opportunity to get to know them authentically vanish.
We learn. And I'll probably never let that opportunity go again.
On a side note: I've gotten a positive reaction from this blog so far. It is encouraging. I think I can express myself best through writing (or typing in this instance) and I'm glad you enjoy it. I'll try for a post a week but can't make any solid promises. If I had to take a guess, you'll be reading about lesson planning, execution, and success/failure soon. It's going to be awesome, no matter how it turns out.
P.P.S For those of you who feel like introverts caught in an extroverted world, I highly suggest reading Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. It allowed me to feel justification for why I can be completely on and energetic as a teacher but have an absolute need to shut everything down and hide from the world afterwards. I'll most likely quote this and Healing the Shame that Binds You throughout this blog.