In my third year I taught Gr.12 inner-city students remedial English and I poured my entire heart into it. I had them acting out scenes of Othello and loving it; some of the tough boys cried as we read Of Mice and Men as a class; and almost all the students got really excited about improving their writing skills. I thought I was a super teacher. I thought I had them excited about being the best they could be, and getting the best mark they possibly could.
Then came our preparation and review for the dreaded standardized exam that loomed at the end of the course. I thought they would buckle down and study their brains out. After everything we had been through, it was a given, right? I mean, some of the tough boys cried while reading Of Mice and Men.
But they soooo didn’t. With the exception of a couple of sweet, ESL female students who always worked hard, as soon as we finished our last book, my students’ checked out.
Three weeks before the exam things were looking bleak. I gave my inspirational speech. No effect.
Two weeks before the exam I enforced mandatory study periods after school with one-on-one inspirational speeches. No effect.
One week before the exam I thought I was the worst teacher in the world. I needed an inspirational speech. I racked my brain trying to devise strategies to get them to want to do well on this exam. What was I doing wrong? Why didn’t they want a good grade? Why was I failing them?
And then, after venting my frustrations to my dad over the phone just a few days before the exam, he asked me, “Wow! Regan. Why are you owning so many of their problems?”
“Huh?”
“Are you writing the exam?”
“Well … no.”
“Are you choosing not to do the work?”
“Uh … no … [ahem] … they are.”
“Are you doing the best you can as their teacher?”
“Yeah. Of course I am!”
“Then what are you so worried about?”
And with that question, it was as if a mountain of stress and anxiety was instantly taken off my shoulders. The whole thing came flooding into perspective. I had let the boundaries between my role as a teacher and their responsibilities as students become blurred. I was stressed because I was trying to extend my will (for them to do well on the exam) onto them, and that never works out well.
That quick conversation helped me realize that you can only control what you can control.
It’s worth saying again: You can only control what you can control.
In other words, my problems are my problems, not your problems.
I Have Problems
I have problems. You have problems. Our friends have problems. Strangers have problems. The guy (on the right) from Celebrity Rehab has problems.
And our students have problems.
But they’re our problems!
They’re our problems that we each have to work through on our own. Sure others can help and support us, but we first have to want to work through the problem. And if we don’t? Well, that’s our problem.
It’s no different in teaching. Our students have to want our help before we can help them. Otherwise we’re preaching. Otherwise, it’s stressful. And that stress can drive us insane.
So, Sanity Saver #1 for the upcoming school year is …
Stop Owning Your Students’ Problems!
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Tags: effective teaching, Great Examples, making education meaningful, Reflections, Teaching Ideas