Confession time again. I've been feeling a significant weight on my shoulders and nearly buckled under it this week.
Confession #2: I have struggled with being an overachiever, perfectionist, and professional stresser-outer for nearly all my life. Some days or even seasons of my life are easier than others. Some days or seasons nearly crush me.
I've been feeling the crush this week.
I believe with every cell in my being that the changes that I have made and continue to make to my teaching is absolutely in the best interest of my students. Admittedly, while my intentions may be noble, the execution of some of these plans or ideas of mine do not always go that well. I've been feeling a significant weight this week as multiple fronts combine to create a wall before me.
I do not wish to go on and on about my burdens, but will say that even the things that I believe are best for students can create a significant weight on my shoulders and require an exorbitant amount of time. I was feeling that this week.
I made plans to go to bed early last night, be up and out of the house as soon as possible, and try to get caught up on all that I need to do to meet the needs of my students. Despite being woken up three times last night (once for a truck slamming into and totalling one of our cars and the hour and a half ordeal with the police (who could not have been more helpful, by the way), once when my oldest son had lost his pillow, and another time when my oldest son had a nightmare and wanted me to lay in bed with him), I was still up at 4:15 getting ready to go. I arrived at school and got a significant amount of work done. I was feeling a very miniscule portion of the weight lift, and then my students arrived.
What I witnessed today from these students made me feel as though the burden had been wrenched off my shoulders. The perspective that it gave me allowed me to see through the wall that is before me, and see the wonderful things that are happening to and in my students.
I was so proud of my students yesterday that they were able to complete three sets (of five minutes each) of absolutely silent and focussed writing. For students who view writing as many adults would view root canal surgery, this fifteen minutes was nothing short of a miracle. Afterward, they said how much easier it is to write once you get started. They said how much easier it was to write using an outline. They said how much easier it was to write after I modeled for them what writing looks like. They said how much easier it was to write when they created a custom plan for how they would use class time.
I was on top of the world, and today I realized there are a few more floors to go.
I praised them today for their hard work yesterday. We talked strategies and plans. We checked rubrics and outlines. Then we tried the five minute silent writing again.
They didn't want to stop.
They kept asking to share what they wrote.
They begged for more time writing.
Yes! I am not making this up! They begged for longer than five minutes.
I suggested seven minutes and they laughed at me.
"We want 10."
"Guys, come on. Seriously. Let's try 8."
"Give us 10 minutes. We can do it."
That's when I caved. The fact that they unanimously believed in themselves that they could accomplish this goal was an accomplishment in and of itself.
"Ok. 10 minutes."
They didn't believe it when the timer went off. They thought I cheated and only set it to eight minutes. We debriefed afterwards and talked about what went well and what could have gone better.
They started begging again.
They wanted 15 minutes of silent writing.
I was amazed. We talked about strategies for if they get stuck, or if they finish.
Then they wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
I mentioned to them beforehand that if they could actually pull this off, then I would call the principal on the phone and brag on them for a bit.
When the fifteen minutes was up, and we listened to our writing, they insisted that we bring the principal to the room so they could see his reaction. He was gracious enough to oblige, and the smile on his face as I recounted the events of the day was enormous. He then asked, "How many of you are proud of what you wrote?" Every hand shot up as though he asked "Who likes pizza?"
And the burden is gone.
Yes, I still have a ton to do. Yes, I will probably have to prioritize and let a few things go. But what I saw today in these students was extraordinary, and it deserves nothing less than my full attention.
So you have seen my therapy session for the day. I put aside everything else to write this blog and reflect on the beautiful experience I was able to stand witness to today from students who have been so disenfranchised by school.
They named themselves OOTA, Out Of The Ashes, because "we've always been burned by school and have been covered in ashes, and we want to be something better."
Today, I saw the birth of something better.
Something beautiful.
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