My first year of teaching is a bit of a blur. I remember the long days, my principal telling me to “go home, it’s dinner time”. I remember thinking that if only I worked harder this would be easier. The answers would come and I would not feel like such a fraud. When I reached for past experience, there was so little to grab that I worked every single day to fill the seemingly empty reservoir of knowledge, all to afford my students the chance of a great year.
I remember the first time I cried after a bad day. A lesson had not worked, and clearly this meant I was not cut out for the job. After all, the students were certainly not learning as much as their peers who had veteran teachers – they had it all figured out, they knew how to teach. I did not. I remember wishing for my first year to be behind me so that I would have the answers, so my students would leave every day having had the best possible learning experience, and I would never cry again.
But, that is not how it works. I have taught for eight years now and I still cry at times. There are still days where my best laid plans disintegrate and nothing seems to work; where my students stare at me as if I am from outer space, not even speaking their language. Those days come out of the blue; every little thing seems to pile up until you face the realisation that perhaps you are not as good a teacher as you were starting to think.
One day last December, I sat on my couch and cried, overwhelmed with the feeling of failure after an OK day at school. Nothing huge had happened, I just did not feel that I would ever be able to pull off being a 7th-grade teacher, no matter how many hours I spent planning and preparing. I needed to let all my frustration out to move forward. I blogged about it and watched as the education community told me that I was not alone, that there would be better days, and that I was making a difference even if it did not feel that way.
As the days passed, I slowly came around, restoring confidence in myself. Sometimes we are our own worst enemies, lacking the faith in our abilities that others see. But it is normal, even if it is hard. It is normal, even if you feel completely alone.
So for all of us who have felt the slump, who have felt like we are not good enough and our students would be better off with someone else – have hope.
It is in our despair that we find our greatest teaching strength – the fact we care. We care enough to know that sometimes we are not at our best, no matter our intentions.
We care enough to know that there will be good and bad days. What matters is what we do with those bad days. We embrace them as a means to reflect – what could have gone better? What could be changed to teach better?
I have learned is that this is not all on you, that when we teach we enter into a partnership with our students and we must discuss what they will be putting into the classroom too. They may have bad days as well, but they also need to use those bad days to reflect. The best teaching is one where students and teachers come together – not just sit back and wait for the teacher to put on a show.
I have learned in my years of teaching that I am not perfect. I will never be the perfect teacher, I will never have all of the answers and I will never be able to plan enough to avoid bad days. But I have also learned that the bad days are not quite as bad as they used to be.
The reservoir of knowledge that we build up over the years teaches us that this too shall pass. Every teacher seems to hit a slump at least once a year, if not more. We all question whether we should be in the profession, but it is within that questioning that we strengthen our resolve to make a difference and grow from it, rather than let it drown us in a pool of despair.
There are no teachers who have perfect lessons every day, never doubting themselves. We teach children, after all, and children are not perfect human beings. [Ed. note: Neither are college students!] So reach out to others, realise that you are not alone and that most teachers who seem like they have it all together probably have off days as well. Bad days do not define us, they are an opportunity to grow.
We feel our bads so innately because we take pride in what we do – that is the mark of a great teacher who is making a difference. Even if it does not feel like it that day.
This article originally appeared in the "Secret Teacher" feature of the Guardian. Click on the link to read the full article: http://www.theguardian.com/teacher-network/2016/jan/02/secret-teacher-feel-like-failure-sometimes-must-have-hope