So I went to Parent-Teacher interviews yesterday, and some of the stories just broke my heart.
One mother was telling me that her son had gotten so excited about history and was going home to her and talking about all the different concentration camps and some movie that he had watched (i.e. my all about me presentation). And then she told me that the subject matter was so painful for him that he went home and cried.
This is what I was afraid of. Hurting sensitive souls. And of course everybody says to me that it's good for him, that he's just sensitive anyways. I would argue that most of the kids in my homeroom are sensitive; that's why they have learning blocks. And if I bombard them with traumatic information, I can be the person who provides them with more. I have to ask myself the question: what is the fundemental purpose behind education? Is it to develop academic skills so that these students are well-developed brains. I think most people would argue that yes, to some degree, that's what education is. But I am not so sure anymore. What about the idea that we want to grow these young humans into well-adjusted, happy, joyful, trusting, authoritative human beings. Is the teaching of the Holocaust at all something that contributes to this objective. I am not entirely convinced anymore that the teaching of many world histories is contributive of happy, healthy human beings. In some ways so radical, I really am questioning what education means to me, or at least what part that I want to play in it.
I know at least that I got through to these kids. They have softened in front of my eyes. They have exposed themselves and brought extremely beautiful and sensitive reflection to the table. But I am not really sure that I am happy with what I've done here.
Another story that touched me this week was another mother at parent-teacher interviews. Her son has severe ADD. And with me, she shared personal and really sad stories of the amount of anxiety her son was going through in attempts of completing his assignment. Their job was to write anthropomorphic short stories. This student just got so lost in the detail that he couldn't remember what he was doing anymore; he reminded me of a younger me. A me that would get so anxious trying to complete assignments because I would be constantly hitting walls and breaks in my brain. I would watch myself be unable to complete tasks that I knew other people could complete. I would watch myself conceptually understand what to do and physically be unable to complete the task. So this woman was grasping at seams. She was looking for resources, and I could smell it on her because I recognized it in myself. So I gave her one contact name; the first person that I had worked with. She's gentle, and knowing, and calming, and comes across as a person that you want to grow yourself into. And she hugged me. A complete stranger hugged me and said, 'We've been looking for answers to this for so long, and I didn't think that I'd find it here at parent-teacher interview night.'
I think what I've found so interesting about these last few days is how resilient the students are. I had a student come up to me today and tell me that he'd had a lot of student teachers, but that I was the best he'd had. I said "Thank you," and he said, "It's not a compliment; it's a fact." Now, while I share this because it makes my soul happy, I also share it because I have to keep reminding myself that while I do believe I've had a positive impact and I'm extremely sad to be leaving, it's part of the job: to leave, to create strong bonds and hope they are long lasting, but to have to leave. We see new kids each year, even entirely new schools, and the kids see new teachers every year. They have to adjust constantly, as do we.
ReplyDeleteI'm not suggesting that this constant change is traumatizing, just that I think this is a major part of the learning process for students. It is certainly as important as academic learning. To learn to trust people and learn from them, while also being able to say goodbye, to move on. In this, I think the students know more than we do. While I was almost in tears today, the kids were laughing a skipping (it's Friday after all) and turning around to yell a quick "Goodbye Ms. McGrath! Come visit!"