Teaching can feel so lonely at times, but when we open our classroom doors and peer around the corner, we see that we are not alone.
Do you have a teacher-friend — a colleague who is your BFF at school, who pulls you out from under your desk to make you laugh, who hands you a tissue when you just need to cry, who reminds you why you’re a teacher, who just inspires?
Diane and I taught junior high ELA together for over a decade, and last week, over a week of email exchanges, we talked about the power of stories, the changes in the profession, and the friendship that made teaching a little less lonely.
Sarah: Question number one, my dear: If you could interview anyone from your life living or dead, but not a celebrity, who would it be and why?
Diane: This took some time to think about, but I would have to say I would love to interview my parents. I really don’t know my “story,” and I now so wish I did; age has made me very curious about it all. I know snippets, but that’s it. My mother and I would talk about what it was like when she was growing up and some of the silly things she did as a teen and young adult, and while she did talk about some of our family history, I evidently was not listening or not terribly interested at the time to remember much of it. As a consequence, I know very little about her side of the family, and as she died twenty-five years ago (and the rest of her family is also gone), I will now never hear my maternal history. I know even less about my father and his family. My parents were divorced when I was five-years-old. I saw my father only a few times between the time I was five until I was ten-years-old and those visits were brief. It wasn’t until thirty years later when I went to visit a friend in Philadelphia that my mother told me my father also lived there. At the urging of my friend, I called him, and to my surprise, we arranged a meeting ~ the first in thirty years. We were together for an evening and a day, which was very interesting as I met his wife, three of my four stepbrothers and sisters and their children. While there was lots of conversation, there just wasn’t the occasion to talk about all gaps in what memories I had or to fill in all the missing blanks. I thought that after that visit there might be other opportunities to talk and to visit, but there never was. While he sent Christmas cards each year after our visit, he never called or asked to meet again. He died about ten years after our meeting. As I have gotten older, I feel this emptiness in the blank pages of my book; chapters are missing. And while I know those pages will never be written, I wish I had a “do over” with my parents (with pen and notebook in hand) to patiently and intently listen to their stories…my ancestral stories…my lost stories…stories that I could now pass on to my children and grandchildren if I only had them to share.
Sarah: I did not know this about your father, Diane. You know, for us, stories have been part of our days for so many years — reading and writing with students, reading or listening to books every waking moment so that we had that right book to share with a student when he or she needed it. And yet, sometimes the stories closest to us linger unheard. I would interview my Aunt Adele. She is the oldest member of our family. My aunt has cancer. She was diagnosed a year ago but is still with us. I don’t want her stories to go unheard, so I asked her to grant me an interview about my grandparents and her life as a teacher. I am waiting to hear her response.
Sarah: I remember meeting you there, too. However, there were many people in the room that day. I did not know that the interview was going to be a group interview, but my vivid memory of meeting you was in H103 for my first department meeting. You had brownies for all of us — and test scores. Your beauty stood out to me, but also that you were serious about making sure our department was doing all that it could to help our students.
How would you describe me?
Diane: You are a beautiful person inside and out. On the outside, you are a tall, willowy woman who is obviously focused on health and fitness (Who gets up before school to take a spin class? Always amazed me!) and are certainly a good athlete. But despite all the rigors of physical training and fitness and academics, you also are mindful of the importance in taking care of the inner you and your personal relationships. It appears you strive to find balance in your life. You have a beautiful smile and a warm, quiet, and inviting demeanor that seems to draw people in. During conversation, you have a unique gift to listen intently and deeply to hear what the speaker is saying and to respond in a thoughtful, intelligent, and kind way. Your gentleness with others, even in the face of a myriad of obstacles, opens doors for those who most need your support and guidance. You are extremely supportive of your family, friends, colleagues, and students; never have I witnessed a time when you weren’t “there” for those who needed a helping hand and/or words of encouragement. You take risks to connect with those around you, especially your students. You are a master educator, and it was my good fortune to have worked with you. You had a huge influence on my practice during the years we worked together…always gently nudging me to be brave and branch out of my comfort zone…making me a better teacher and world citizen. You are an inspiration to those with whom you work, and what I see as one of your many gifts is the ability to suggest ideas, new ways of thinking and practicing the craft of teaching (and thinking and living) in a way that says, “Try this…it may work…let’s travel this road together to see where it goes.” The listener can then decide whether or not to pack his/her bags without recrimination. You are humble in acceptance and rejection. I have seen firsthand the success your students achieve (from at-risk to academically talented) under your tutelage, and you gain their love and respect in the process. One must not take your quietness as a lack of will, for you have a determination and fearlessness that seems to propel you to climb to greater heights, to explore new ideas and practices in your profession and personally. You are authentic and grounded. You are intelligent, insightful, and an innovator. You are an amazing woman; someone I am proud to call “sista”.
Sarah: Gosh, Diane, my heart is swelling (as are my eyes). Your generous words capture all that I really strive to do and be and am still becoming. Most of the time, I feel like I am failing, which is why I keep trying — desperately most days. What keeps me coming back to the classroom is the belief that the today I will do better because I have to do better. These kids deserve it. But after hearing my career from your perspective, I guess I can just stop now. I think I will just stop now, go out on a high note — so thank you, and good night.
2005, Harper Teen
ISBN:0060090065
Really, you had a huge influence on my practice. You got me out from behind (under) my desk. You showed me that “my classroom” was a myth. At the beginning, I felt safe “doing what I do” in the classroom and didn’t collaborate much at all, mostly out of fear that I’d be judged or rejected. I know, it sounds like middle school, but I think teaching is really personal, and it can be hard to share what we do and be open to revising it. You were the one who nudged me to be brave and branch out of my comfort zone. Our collaboration made me a better teacher, and, more importantly, benefited our students’ learning. I loved how our classes read Tree Girl and that we could be teary eyed together after class. With books in every corner of your room, you taught me the value of a classroom library and how important it is for teachers to be readers — it seems obvious, but oftentimes our own reading and writing suffers as we try to balance school and home life. And you nudged me to start (and finish) my Ph.D. Because you believed in me, I felt like I could do it, and your feedback on my writing was so helpful.
I’ll never forget that look on your face when I said I was coming back full time; I think it was during one of our last book clubs and after my part-time year. I had taken a part-time assignment that year so that I could finish my coursework, and I announced that I was coming back. The look on your face was of shock. You didn’t think I should come back to the classroom but focus on teaching teachers, right? I’ll still do that part-time, but I wanted to come back so that I could teach with you, so that I could continue to collaborate with and learn from my colleagues, side-by-side. I just didn’t feel like my work in middle school was done.
How did you decide to retire? What do you miss and not miss about teaching?
Diane: You touch my heart, Sarah. It’s a good thing that I did stop before someone found me out! I hear you, though. I often had those same feelings of failing…that I really didn’t know what I was doing…just doing a good job at faking it and that someone would surely notice one day. And, like you, each new year and each day I would start with that same belief that today (this year) I would do better because my kids needed me to do better; they depended on it. Every new professional book I picked up from those respected in the field and every workshop that I could attend was a constant effort to keep learning and refining my practice to do better. I am touched to think that I influenced your practice. Thank you for that. I enjoyed working with and alongside my colleagues, and there was much to learn from them, but I didn’t often feel that I was having any impact. I often felt, especially after team and/or department meetings, that I was politely listened to and then the door closed on the way back into individual rooms. Maybe it is because teaching is a personal experience; we pour so much of ourselves into what we do that some of us feel threatened or challenged by being asked to rethink and rework our practice or even to consider it. However, with you, I felt a collaborative spirit and willingness to venture out; I knew that our conversations were frank, open, thoughtful, and sometimes quite adventurous! I always felt I got more than I ever gave…really! And I do remember our Tree Girl discussions; I still get teary-eyed.
Yes, you are right. My initial reaction to your coming back may have registered shock…more surprise perhaps. I know you had said in our conversations that you might. However, I just knew the kind of impact you were having on new teachers and that the influence on new teachers would have an indirect impact on students, so I had hoped you would continue in that role. However, after listening to your thoughts and knowing what I know now, I was wrong. You are far wiser. Your wanting to stay connected to students benefits and strengthens your instruction with new teachers. And I can’t imagine those junior high students missing this time with you. Indeed, your work is not done with them. You needed to come back not to be me (sweet comment – thanks) but to be an even better you.
Deciding to retire was not entirely a hard decision to make. I had “retired” early in my career to raise the boys and returned sixteen years later to substitute teach and then four years after that to full-time teaching, so I knew I would never get to the thirty-five plus year mark. The “when” would be based on other factors. As teaching and the environment in which teachers were having to work changed yet again, I knew it was time. Teaching is an ever-changing profession, and while I don’t mind change and certainly had been through many paradigm shifts since I had returned to the classroom full-time in 1990, I didn’t think I had the energy to do it again. I knew that I was at a point where I could no longer do what I had been doing the way I had been doing it…that there was just too much evidence pointing me new directions…that it was time to throw out the old and not-so-old and begin anew. I simply didn’t feel I had the get-up-and-go to reinvent myself again. Like many teachers, I had been working long hours and most weekends and a lot of my summers on school for such a long time (was not real good at balance), and as the last four to six years were probably the most stressful of my career, I also felt I needed a change to regain and maintain my health and re-balance my life. My friends had long retired and were enjoying their lives, traveling, spending time with friends and family, and generally having a good time. I wanted to do that! My youngest son and daughter-in-law were starting their family, and an opportunity to spend time with their girls was offered which I couldn’t pass up. Because I had been working while my other grandchildren were young, I missed a lot of that precious time to spend with them before they reached school-age; I resolved not to miss that time with these two girls. Thus, LIFE entered into the decision. And since one does not know how many candles on one’s cake there will be, I decided to turn in my lesson plans and gradebook to do the things that are important to me while I still can. Happily, I have been doing those fun things with the girls, visiting old friends and making new ones in my new location, traveling, reading, going to concerts and the ballet, and generally just living life on my own schedule. And loving it!
The harder part of that decision was that I knew I would miss my friends and colleagues and the work we did together and the fun we also had. I also knew I would probably lose contact with most of them as I moved out-of-state. There was also an administrative change the first year I was gone, and as I had known the new administrator when he was in our building several years before and knew what a wonderful person he was with whom to work, I was disappointed to miss the opportunity to be a part of his staff. Additionally, you were coming back full-time, and while you took my position (I think), I was sad that I would not have the chance to work with you again. If there had been room for both of us in the department, I would have gladly spent a few more years; it would have been so invigorating to explore new horizons together. I may have found some of that get-up-and-go again! There was a moment when I left my room the last day of school that I turned to have one last look and felt a great twinge of sadness that I would never stand before a group of “my kids” again and introduce them to the excitement of reading and writing, that when I closed the door it would truly be for the last time, a moment of nostalgia and finality. I had defined myself for so long as a teacher, and my identity was so wrapped around that that I felt almost a sense of loss and wondered who the new me would be…if I would find myself without my lesson plans and journals. However, the fact that you are in my old room and that I was able to give you most of my library is a gift that gives me great pleasure. I also know where “one door closes another door opens” (cliche, I know), and I think that’s happening.
Sarah: Of course, I would have liked a few more years of teaching alongside you, but I also worry about the day when I can no longer do what I do. Remember that one year I was told I had to follow a scripted curriculum? I was so close to resigning, but Dan was out of work, and we needed my income. Teachers make these tough choices every day, and I think you were brave for making the choice to be with your precious girls.
You talk of balance and identity. Like me (and so many other teachers), you have your identity “so wrapped around” being a teacher, and it was a comfort to me to know you understood my passion (sometimes obsession) — and I understood yours. We were never good at balance, were we? Teaching is hard, but there are all these beautiful moments that make imprints on our hearts. I think most teachers get that what we do is a privilege — to be entrusted with other people’s children, to read their innermost thoughts, to hear their ideas about the world. So when we stop, and I will have to stop if I can’t figure out this balance thing, I know I will carry all the stories with me.
As an adult, It is not easy for me to make friends, but I call you my friend, my sista. Is there anything else you want to say or add, a question I didn’t ask?
Diane: I also worry about what’s in store for teachers and students and what someone who doesn’t understand what we do will conceive as the next new “best” thing. Yes, I remember your scripted curriculum; what a nightmare. But what would have happened if a new teacher would have been handed that packet and was told she had to do it? She/he might have felt too much pressure to do what she/he had been told to keep the job and not what she/he was right for kids. Luckily, you were experienced and knew what you needed to do for your students and could do it. I believe you will be a voice that offers alternatives…a change agent…who is bold and committed to “righting the ship” for kids. As you are planning several new directions for your teaching and for kids this year, I will be very interested to hear how these changes are received by parents, students, and other teachers. It could be life-changing for everyone.
I had to smile when I read “there are all these beautiful moments that make imprints on our hearts…will carry all the stories with me.” You are so right! I just got a note from a former student who is starting her first teaching job today and a FB note from another a couple of months ago who is beginning a two-year commitment teaching math to under-served kids. I am also in regular contact with a former student who is working towards citizenship and has now received her papers so she can get a better paying job and begin college! I am reminded of those “beautiful moments” with each of them (and others) and recall the stories we wrote together. Replaying the “movie” is a wonderful aspect of retirement. One can stand back, away from the frenzy of everyday schedules, plans, grading, etc. and leisurely reflect on the years with kids. I’ve even had time now to read over the notes and letters I’d received over the years from parents and students. The memories that we share together always make me smile. And I still wonder about those kids who struggled and the ones I worried about, academically and/or personally, I can only hope their life paths have led them wherever they needed to go. I guess you can take the teacher out of the school but not the school out of the teacher!
Thank you for being a part of this journey. I hope to continue to ride along with you, dear sista, as you continue to create all those “beautiful moments…stories” that you will carry in your heart when you someday close the door
Do you have a teacher-friend that you’d like to interview for Ethical ELA? See our Teacher-Friends Interview guide for how to set up the interview and then send it to us for publication.