Dear Students: What I Really Want to Say But Can't

Dear students,

There are so many things that I've wanted to tell you all year but I just couldn't say. Whether the reason be legal, logical, personal, or whatever, I just couldn't tell you what was on my mind. 

Well, I've never been very good at keeping my mouth shut, so I am going to tell you everything I've wanted to say. Right here. Right now. 

#1 

There is a such thing as a stupid question, and you, my dear, just asked one. Close your mouth before you do any more damage. 

#2

If you're going to choose to be dumb, you need to at least be pretty...or funny...or really athletic. You're none of those things. Pick up the dadgum pencil and let's do this!

#3
I die a little inside when you do the thing that I, just seconds ago, told your classmate not to do. I think the energy drained from trying not to yell in these situations has aged me at least a decade.

#3
I do not fail you. You fail you. All I do is deliver the information and mark your assignments when you turn them in. It does not make me happy to mark answer after answer wrong on your tests. I feel like a failure each and every time that I have a student fail my class. And yes, I guess I could just 'bump you up' that few points every semester to get that grade up to passing, but then I really would be failing you. And I refuse to do that.

#4

High school has absolutely nothing to do with your ability to solve a quadratic equation. It's not really about learning the causes of the Civil War. And no, your knowledge of covalent bonds will not affect you in the "real world." What you're really supposed to be learning is how to do crap you don't want to do while working with the people that you don't necessarily want to work with. You're supposed to be learning how to think critically and problem solve. What you're really supposed to be learning is how to survive college and the workforce and hopefully one day be a productive citizen. Many of you are failing. Miserably. Congrats. Now change it. It's not too late; try when you want to quit, be kindness when your world stacks up against you, and be humble even when you feel like a superhero. 

#5

The teacher that snapped on you that day that you didn't bring anything to class may have just found out that her sister has to start chemo tomorrow. That teacher that was less than patient that day that you just couldn't get MAC factoring may have just gotten a picture text from her husband of the headstone she recently had to design for her baby. Your teachers are only human. We have bad moods, we have bad days, and we sometimes make poor decisions. Give us a break every now and then. We both know your teachers have given you the benefit of the doubt more times than any of us could count. 

#6

Contrary to what you think that office referral, Saturday school assignment, or parent phone call may mean, I really do care about you. The only reason I discipline you is because I care about you. Trust me, it would be a whole lot easier if I just ignored that bad behavior or just 'let you fail.' (See #3) There may be times when I don't particularly like you, but I always, always care about you. The moment you stepped foot into my room, I worked to help you grow just like you were my child. Sometimes that growth requires some hard lessons, like summer school. Sometimes that growth required an abundance of grace, like the day you couldn't gather your emotions so I let you retake the test when you were feeling better. Every decision I made concerning you came with the subconscious thought, "What if he/she were my child? How would I want this handled?"

#7

This one is a biggie. This one was on the tip of my tongue every day, every time I saw your cuts, your tears, or your silent (and sometimes not so silent) cries for help. But I could never say it because...well, because we live in a broken world that has decided that your teachers can never, ever talk to you about this...

Jesus loves you. 

And even though your world and heart may be broken, in Him you will find only Peace. I desperately hope you find Him. Sadly, I can't lead you to Jesus with words, but I hope you witnessed His Love through me as you sat in my classroom.

Love,
Mrs. Rich

An Open Letter to The Alabama Politicians Who Are Ruining Education

Dear Mr. Politician,

I can't remember a time that I did not want to be a teacher; all of that changed today.

Today I read an article explaining that Alabama teachers can expect their long awaited and much deserved raise in the next year or so, BUT they have some things that they are going to have to give up. Ha! Go figure. We teachers are used to this by now, but I would be lying if I said that this doesn't feel like a slap in the face. You're dangling the proverbial carrot in front of our faces, but I, for one, am not going to take this lying down.

I love my students, and I do not teach for the income. But, I do not enjoy feeling undervalued and I downright hate the way this implies that teachers as a whole are not doing their jobs. The problem with education is NOT too little accountability on teachers; the problem is too little accountability on the students and parents.We do not pay dentists based on cavities, we do not pay preachers based on saved souls, and we do not pay politicians based on approval ratings. Why does it make sense to you that we pay teachers based on approval ratings from students, test scores, and unannounced observations?

There are many variables that affect my students' performance in my class, and there is no way that I can control them all. If you want to fix problems in education, let's start in the home. Let's make sure that every student that walks in my room every day has a parent at home that made sure they left their home with a full stomach and the knowledge that someone loves them. Or at the very least, let's have a parent or guardian at home that makes sure that the student actually gets to school. Move accountability for attendance from the school to the parents and actually prosecute for truancy. When the students goes home at the end of the day, let's make sure that their parents or guardians ensure that they do their homework and talk to them about both the academic and social aspects of their school day. Let's let the responsibility for parent-teacher contact rest on the parent. If they need to know what is going on at school with their child, have them call on their free time rather than expect the teachers to make time in their already busy school day to call parents. That's impossible you say? Well I agree, but so is trying to improve education by making educators hate the very job they are called to do.

Let's allow the administration to actually, really punish the kids who do not behave according to the code of conduct. I can't tell you how many times I've had a special education student act horribly in class, violating LRE laws for every regular education student in the room, and my administrator's 'hands were tied' because the kid was receiving special education services. I love special education, but your laws are hurting many of the students that our special education teachers are trying to help. While we're on the topic of special education, let me just add that when I have a student that can't read or write come to my high school classroom, I hate what you've done with education so badly that I almost cannot participate in the charade anymore. This child does not need more legislation that tell us, him, and his parents that he cannot be 'left behind' and that he will 'progress with his regular education counterparts.' This child needs to be taught how to read, not how to solve a quadratic equation. All this talk about keeping kids from falling through the cracks, and here you are pushing them through. Mr. Politician, it is time to stop.

Let's remove graduation ratings and standardized test scores if you're not actually going to use them for student accountability. Sometimes students need to fail, and you need to trust the teachers when the students do fail. I love and care for each student that walks the halls of my school, but sometimes students need a little tough love. I meet each of my students halfway, and I believe with my whole heart and very well-educated brain that we are only hurting every student that we pass because we don't have the 'documentation' to fail them. I bend over backwards to help and teach students every single day, and I will not sit aside and let any politician imply that I do not already do enough for my students.

So, no, Mr. Politician. You've got it wrong. Teachers are not the problem with education, and YOU are NOT the solution. You are never going to fix education by creating more legislation; the only way to fix it is to leave the solution up to us, the very capable, hard working, well and properly educated teachers. If you keep pushing your agenda, I can promise you that the only thing you are going to accomplish is pushing good, loving, talented teachers into other professions and leaving our students to flounder.

Very Sincerely,
An Alabama Educator

Lord Let Them See You In Me

The last bell had just rung. My students filed out of my room for the last time that day leaving broken pencils and balled up scratch paper in their wake. A familiar thought pushed its way to the forefront of my mind.

What kind of homes do these kids come from?!

I rolled my eyes at their lack of respect and immediately followed behind them to clean everything up. I wouldn't want my morning class to come in to a messy classroom, of course. I am careful to sweep the floor well, not missing any bits of chewed eraser or spiral notebook paper leftovers. As I made it around to the assignments tray, I see that my 

students couldn't even manage to stack their handouts neatly when they turned them back in. Tisk, tisk! And there's that thought again.

What kind of homes do these kids come from?! 

I straightened my papers and started walking back to my desk when I noticed an impolite drawing on a student's desk. I sighed my most irritated sigh and grabbed a Clorox wipe to begin yet another of my duties that isn't exactly written in my job description. As I scrubbed with as much elbow grease as I could muster, that thought snuck back into my mind.

What kind of homes do these kids come from?!

When my room was back into some semblance of order, I sat down at my desk to finish up some last minute chores before I got to go home and love on my own sweet child. Because I'd never share the lives of my students on such a public stage, I will not tell you exactly what happened next, but I will say that God spoke directly to me in a way that still brings tears to my eyes. 

He answered that little question 'What kind of homes do these kids come from?!' And He asked me one of his own, 'What are you going to do to help them?' 

I humbly bowed my head and prayed. 

Dear Lord,

Let them see You in me. Give me the words, invade my thoughts, allow me to show Your love through my actions.

In Jesus' precious and Holy name I pray,

Amen.

As I tidied up my desk to go home for the day, I felt a brand new determination take over my mind. These kids may not all be future engineers or physicists, but they do all have a future and it's my job to guide it. If I have to pick up a few pieces of trash or clean a few inappropriate pictures of my desks in the process, I'll be happy to do it. 

Matthew 5:14-16

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. …

You're right, teaching isn't a real job...

I get it. It's summertime and all you're seeing on Facebook or Instagram are teachers taking their families to the lake or the beach for days at a time in the middle of the week. You're seeing teachers in their shorts and flip flops going out to lunch with friends. You're seeing all of the teachers that you know walk around with suntans from spending so much time not working. You can't help but think, "I should have been a teacher. They get paid all summer and they don't even have to work. I bet she doesn't even know what it's like to have a real job." I know you're thinking it. Some people even say it. And you know what? You're right. Teaching isn't a 'real' job.

It would be a grosse understatement to call what teachers do every day a 'job.' What we do is so much more than a job.

It's so much more than a career. 

Teaching is a calling. It's a gift. 

There is no way to 'turn it off.' Don't believe me? Spend a few minutes in the company of a couple of teachers; our conversations will turn to bulletin boards and interactive notebooks so fast that your head will spin. While our family and friends think we're relaxing on the beach we're really surreptitiously pinning ideas for Word Walls and Agenda Boards. We work weeks into the summer, and we mentally and physically start back to work weeks before we're actually required to do so. 

We spend hundreds of our own hard earned dollars to get our classrooms ready for the next school year. And, contrary to popular belief, getting paid through summer and getting paid for summer are two totally different things. We're only paid for the days that we're required to be at school, so all of those hours spent working on our classrooms and reworking the curriculum during the summer are unpaid hours. You won't find many 'real jobs' where employees willingly work without compensation. 

We spend late summer nights painting foam board for our new Word Wall idea. 

We use our 'free time' to film video lessons for our new flipped classroom. 

We stay up late at night trying to think of new and inventive ways to get students to engage with vocabulary. 

We spend hours in prayer for the students we had last school year and the students we will have next school year. 

And, yes, we do use plenty of days in the middle of all this work to relax with family and friends at the beach. We do take the opportunity to go out to lunch with friends. We do get that suntan when it's finally possible. And do you know why? 

Because we deserve it. 

There I said it. We deserve it. 

I'm not going to take the high road and selflessly proclaim how we teachers love nothing more than to spend our days fueling little fires of knowledge. 

I'm going to tell you that teaching is hard. 

I'm going to tell you that many of us couldn't possibly handle it, physically, emotionally, or mentally, without our 'summers off.' 

I'm going to tell you that most people wouldn't do it for a week before they'd throw in the towel and beg to have their 'real job' back. 

So, go ahead and tell me that teaching isn't a real job. I'll agree with you 100%. 

Teaching isn't a real job.

It's so much more.

1 Peter 4:10

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms.

I didn't choose to teach.

I'm a teacher, but I didn't choose to teach.

I bet if you asked the nation's pre-service teachers why they want to teach, the majority of them would tell you that they want to make a difference somehow. I know because I was there once, and I chose to make a difference, too.

I didn't choose to teach because I wanted to spend my days checking dress code. I teach because I want to be there for a student who doesn't have a coat to wear in the freezing cold of winter.

I didn't choose to teach because I enjoy listening to adolescents tell stories about who partied at whose house last weekend. I teach because I want to be a shoulder to cry on for the students whose best friend hung himself last night.

I didn't choose to teach because I wanted to be able to tell the difference between a student who really needs to go to the bathroom and a student who just wants to get out of class. I teach because I want to be there to help the student who just came back from cutting herself in the bathroom.

I didn't choose to teach because I like to hear the ramblings of the self-professed 'pot heads' in my classroom. I teach because I hope to be the one person who actually gets through to them and shows them that they can have and be more.

I didn't choose to teach because I enjoy giving directions multiple times just to hear someone ask what we're doing immediately after I'm finished. I teach because I love seeing their eyes light up when they finally understand what they're doing.

I didn't choose to teach because I like eating my lunch in less than fifteen minutes while sitting in a lunch room exploding with the sounds of high school. I teach because I need to be there for the student who tells me on Monday that she hasn't eaten since Friday because she doesn't have any food at home.

I didn't choose to teach because I wanted to spend hours every week writing lesson plans that will not go as planned. I teach because I love how it feels when those lessons fall perfectly into place and I can feel my students learning.

As I pulled my projector screen down and wrote the date on the board this morning, I thought about how bad I wanted to go back home. I caught myself wishing the day would pass by quickly. Then I reminded myself that that is not why I do what I do. I don't come to work to pass the time. I come to work for my students.

We motivate the unmotivated.
We love the unlovable.
We teach the unteachable.
We are teachers, but we didn't choose to teach. We chose to make a difference, so that's what we will do.

The 112 Hour Workweek

So I'm scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed. I see a single girl post about how she just finished working a 12 hour shift, and she is "too tired." I remember those days. Those days when I thought I knew what tired was...I had no idea.

I'm working from the moment I get out of the bed in the morning to the moment that I fall into the bed at night. I should be working as I type this post, actually. Let me give you an example of my day.

I get up earlier than anyone else in the house. Take a shower, fix my makeup, fix my hair. I wake The Nugget and Big G up so we can get ready for the day. One of us gets J dressed (I can't pretend like I do it all around here, Big G is a lot of help...most of the time), nurse him (that's ALL me :)), and get his food packed into his diaper bag. Then, we are all ready to leave the house. I'm lucky enough to have Big G take J to his grandmother's house most days, so I go straight to the school. I get  into my classroom around 7:30 and get ready for the day. I write my daily objectives, BDAs (before, during, and after), and weekly assignments on my agenda board, I change the date, and I get the Bell Ringers ready.

The bell rings and my students file in. "Can I use the restroom?" "I need to go back to my locker!?" "I couldn't do my homework last night because...""I need to go to the nurse...girl problems!" As I answer all of these questions, I have to make sure that everyone is starting on their Bell Ringer while simultaneously marking tardies, checking dress code, and welcoming students with a smile at my door. I'm super human, don't ya know!? All before 8am.

As the day goes on, kids file in an file out. I am in charge of loving them, teaching them, welcoming them, checking dress code, marking attendance, counting tardies, and watching for signs of abuse, drugs, alcohol, anger, etc., and making sure that they are learning something. (I know. I said teaching them...then I said I had to make sure they are learning something. These are two very different things. I'll explain that in its own post later.) All the while, I am trying to find a few minutes in the day to pump for J in privacy. I'm not even going to try to explain my pumping schedule. It's pretty much pump when you can and don't worry about it if you can't. At 1:51 I get my PLANNING PERIOD! Some people call this your 'free period'...these people are not teachers. Teachers know that your planning period is your daily time out from students and the fastest 50 minutes of the whole day. I usually spend my planning period trying to catch up on the things I am required to do. Many of these things are completely ridiculous, and I believe that they have nothing to do with actually helping my students learn (I update you on this in a later post as well!). Then the bell rings. We all get to go home. Our day is done...except its not.

If you are a mother, you know what I'm talking about. When I leave school I go get my baby. I don't know who is more excited when we finally get reunited! I take him home and we play. That doesn't sound like work to many people, but it really is. As enjoyable as it may be...it is a very tiring job! He is learning new things every day, and it is my job to give him to opportunities to learn and things to explore. We read, we sing, we play, we walk through the yard. We keep ourselves entertained until naptime. After I get J down for a little nap around 4:00, I run through the house trying to clean and straighten everything that I can before he wakes up. I have to wash my breast pump bottles, get supper started (if it's not in the slow cooker...more on that later, too!), wash, dry, and fold clothes, sweep the floor, you get the picture! I never finish what I start before J is finished with his nap.

Usually Big G is home by the time J wakes up. While I am finishing supper, Big G usually gets to his daily playtime in with The Nugget. Then we eat, we clean the kitchen, and we start our bedtime routine. Most nights we bathe, put on our pajamas, read a book, nurse, and lay down in the bed to go to sleep. This whole routine is usually over around 8:00, and J is down for the night. You'd think I'd be able to rest a little after I lay the boy down, but I don't. I start getting ready for the next day. I get his bottles/cups ready, his food ready (he eats homemade baby food...yep, more on that later, too!), and his diaper bag ready to be packed. I also try to finish what I started when J was napping earlier. By the time I finish cleaning up and getting ready for tomorrow, it is time to go to bed.

Whew! That wore me out just typing it, and that is just one day. Imagine the entire week!

I am not by any means saying that I have a difficult life. I love my life, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I have a wonderful husband who (usually) does his best to help. I am sure there are many people who have it a lot more difficult than me. I just know what my life used to be...boy, I had it easy.