What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
Everyday someone’s son or daughter walks through my door. They are called students. In elementary school, students spend more time with their teacher than they do with their families. In middle school, students suddenly face six teachers. The comfort of seeing the same face every day is broken. Watching sixth graders adjust to this new world is adorable and scary all at the same time. Moving to high school, I watched a lower amount of anxiety pour out of the freshmen. Maybe it’s because I’m a mother or empathetic, but I try to remember that these adult looking bodies in my room are still children.
It’s frustrating to deal with students who just don’t care. In some classes, it becomes a cancer that spreads and students who were working eventually stop. I can’t lash out or treat the cancers like I would an adult. There’s a root to the issue and most of the time it’s outside the classroom. The seniors who are graduating in a few days grew into their own during covid so their reality is warped. The adults didn’t know how to handle what was going on, so they didn’t hold the students accountable and gave them chance after chance to make a half-hearted effort.
This was a failure on our part. How could we expect children who entered high school to care when they grew up watching everyone shut down? Their freshman year, the year where teachers are supposed to instill deadlines and expectations, was null and void. They were still robbed of their sophomore year, where students pick up on social cues and are growing into mini adults. Half online, half in the classroom. Students just weren’t working and those who did work felt like it wasn’t fair.
I was teaching middle school. Kids complained about how it wasn’t fair that the people online didn’t have to do the same amount of work. I had to figure out the nicest way to say “life isn’t fair. It’ll never be fair.” But how do you explain this to someone else’s child without being a dick? I am straightforward, in an age appropriate manner, with my own children. My husband and I don’t hide things from our kids, but that doesn’t mean my students get the same honesty at home. I’ve learned that the hard way when I speak plainly and have been told that I am too harsh and should be more sensitive. I had a student not complete his work, and he responded with a very sarcastic “sorry I didn’t do it.” This was the third assignment that the student hadn’t completed for the quarter, so I was peeved when I responded to him. His mother went to administration saying I was too cruel when I responded with “It’s your grade that’s going to be sorry since you didn’t complete your work.”
I held my tongue that day. I wanted to tell his mother that her child was lazy, disrespectful to me and rude to his classmates. Instead, I smiled and said, “well if he just completed his work, there wouldn’t be a problem.” This student is now a junior at a different high school from where I teach at. His girlfriend is in my program and she’d told me he still doesn’t like to do his work, however he misses me because “I keep it real.”
I don’t want to be mean to my students. I don’t want to raise my voice because I don’t want my son and daughter to deal with that at school. However, it’s a losing battle. My freshmen were in sixth grade during covid so they are little electronic junkies. Headphones in no matter where they go. Glued to their cell phone FaceTiming with friends in class, just like they did when they were at home pretending to care about their classes. I must raise my voice to be heard over their loud chatter, and with 30 people in one room,I’m still not heard.
I wish I could collect all their phones and stash them away. But their parents get upset if they can’t text their child right away. I have to remove myself from a parental mindset. Yes, I want to text my kids during class, but they should give their teacher their full attention. I think covid broke the adults too. They were so used to the consent connection with their child that they don’t know how to function without the instant response.
But then I have students who come to me because they don’t have that connection with their parents. My classroom door needs to be replaced with a revolving one, so I stop having to answer each knock from a girl having a meltdown. My teacher hat kind of goes away although I don’t really put on a mom hat, but I just listen. Sometimes they like what I have to say, other times I get a whining “Mrs. Jenkins!” because I didn’t take their side. I try to give them real life advice for the problems they are facing. Mean girl issues don’t go away just because you graduate and crappy relationship issues only get worse.
One of my male students came in his last few days of school and just word vomited about the problems he was having with his ex. He was graduating, and she was mad about how things ended. I take everything my students tell me with a grain of salt. However, the drama he was dealing with was a lot. The only advice I could give him was you’re graduating. You won’t be seeing her anymore. If she needed him to be the villain in her story, so be it. Someone is always the villain and if you know you did nothing wrong, then let her process that way.
I know these students are people’s sons and daughters. My heart hurts when I listen to their stories that they cannot share with their parents. I wish they could talk to their parents with the honesty that they share with me. My kids know they can open up to me without judgment, but they may not feel comfortable discussing their problems with me. Children don’t ever want to disappoint their parents. They don’t want their parents to see them in a negative light, and sometimes it’s easier to talk to a neutral party. I hope other teachers open themselves to their students, being that ear for their students to vent their frustration and fears.
