Friday reflection: why I teach

11/11/2022

As part of professional development, this week, all faculty participated in a workshop on dealing with trauma and stress. The impetus for the work was to help our staff find an opportunity to create safe spaces for faculty and students in their heads and lives. A place wherein we can meet the challenges without melting.

Not easy.

The session started with everyone being tasked with creating a list of the stressors in their lives. My response, “I don’t need to make a list, it’s right there, pointing to my head.”

I was not alone in expressing that sentiment; one of the teachers in the session told me that hers is on a continuum scrolling in her head when she tries to go to sleep.

By doing the activity,we expressed that creating the list contributed to increasing her stress; not the intention.

It is our intention to work on lessening generalized and specific anxiety and helping the staff and students to manage the challenges we all have.

School is supposed to be our day job; for many, the heavy lifting starts when they get home. Be it family obligations, after school phone calls and e-mails, a second job tutoring, errands, dinner and homework, the day seems to never end. Most of us don’t get into bed before midnight only to begin the rat race early the very next morning.

In order to be a good teacher, there has to be a passion for educating children to own their legacy and to become independent people. The work involved does not financially compensate for the amount of time invested to insure the success of each child.

Additionally, ongoing professional development and the persuit of advanced degrees are expected.

The recent craziness of the pandemic and the political climate have robbed our kids of things that were taken for granted in the past: social interactions and uninterrupted learning. Couple these shortfalls with climate change (will it be a hot day? Do I need a sweater?), the increase of single parent homes, the loss of social awareness and an unstable economy, makes it harder to be a teacher in a classroom.

Yet, we don’t give up; teach and love is what we do.

Last night, I went to a wedding wherein I knew most of the immediate family and alot of the guests. Sitting behind me at the chuppah was a school colleague. Through Jewish geography we made the connections of why we both were in the same place. It was a magnificent wedding that included anything that any couple would want; it was magical.

This kind of simcha could never be pulled off on a teacher’s salary and I absolutely don’t care. What I have and am able to do works for me. More importantly, what I get to have for my hard work, cannot be measured.

At the chuppah, the Rabbis, the witnesses and the reader of the ketubah(contract) were all former students or campers of mine. Leaving the ceremony I was greeted by my son and daughter in law, talking to a fine looking young man with a beard and really cool glasses.

“Mom, guess who this is?” my son challenged. I looked and looked again, no clue. “Come on, he is the only boy who was in your camp group with a unique name.”

The young man, so excited to see me and even more anxious for me to remember him, commented, “I was memorable, how can you not know me?” “ It must be the beard!”

Me being me, I said,”Maybe you were not as big a troublemaker as you thought, my list of those kids is long and colorful,” I responded.

I memory scrolled through the hundreds of names that has been my pleasure to teach. Finally, frustrated, I said, “Give me an initial.” “B”, was his response.

“Bennet”, I shouted. I remembered him for the fine young man he was.

The look of glee on his face left me with so much joy.

There is more to the story and I am happy to share at another time. I know why I teach. Look at me. Here I was at a random wedding with my family and I was able to “shep nachat”, be proud of the accomplishments of former students. I also brought a now very successful adult back to fond memories of childhood joy at camp.

Stress, I’ll deal. When I ponder the reasons I teach, working at my old age, I don’t have to think too hard. I pull up these memories and spend time at the HANC Shabbat Assembly.

It’s that good!

Can you say the same?

Shabbat Shalom.