Teacher Chronicles: Part Two

[In writing this part, I have decided to split it in half again and have this portion focus on my job and another part about the friendship dynamics. If you can't tell, I am kicking a can down the road because I know it takes a lot of emotional vulnerability for me to say what I have to about that particular group of people. I am not ready to unpack it yet.]

After my journey through the various schools and experiences, I was itching to get a full time job. Two years of a detour was enough for me, and I wanted to finally be somewhere permanent. When I was looking at jobs, I came across a 7th grade English position on the Port Huron website, and I had a heart to heart conversation with myself. I said, "Stephanie, you have taught 7th graders, and you have the ability. I know you prefer high school, but we are going to apply." I got a call for an interview, and I accepted the opportunity.

At the time, I didn't have a smart phone, so I had screenshotted directions on my iPod touch. During the drive to my interview, my directions were incorrect, and I ended up driving around random streets because the road I was supposed to take didn't exist. I was so flustered and annoyed that I called Megan to complain about how it was a waste of my time and how I didn't even want the job or to work with 7th graders! Thank goodness for Megan because after I got off the phone, I calmed myself down, and I figured out the directions to the building I was going to. I walked in late, but they were so gracious because they had been running behind themselves and didn't notice or care that I was late. It seemed like a common occurrence that people got lost on the drive because one of the men told me that they often get calls from people accidentally on the bridge, heading to Canada, so it was a win that I was not left to that fate.

When I sat down, I was introduced to the principal and vice principal from the middle school, as well as the high school, and someone from the district level. They shared that the high school team was there because they had an unexpected job opening, so they wanted to see if any of the candidates from the middle school position might be interested in a high school role. I don't remember my interview that well, but at the end, I was asked about which role I would be more interested in. I shared that I love working with both 7th and 9th grade, and it was a lot of the experiences I had had, so I was open to both of them, but if I had a choice, I prefer working with high school students.

On my way to the next interview, I had a conversation with the universe about how much I wanted a full time job and how hard it had been to find something that fit with me and what I wanted. I cried as a song that has consistently served as a reminder that things work out as they are meant to came on the radio. It was a reminder that I can't control anything, and I had to accept that I was at a place where I was ready for my life to move forward, but I couldn't force the next thing to appear. However, it felt like a beacon of hope. That this was the divine timing that was meant to happen and this was the position that was meant to open for me.

In that interview, I met with the high school administrative team, as well as various English teachers. The interview went so well, and I felt a genuine connection with the various people who would be my colleagues. At the end, the principal told me that if something happened, and I didn't get the role, they would be holding on to my resume for any future openings.

Ultimately, I was hired to teach 9th grade English working with four co-taught sections and one non-co-taught section.

To continue from my previous post, I had a chip on my shoulder from making a decision to turn down a job and take my own path. Like if I say something isn't what I want, so I decline it, it's that I think too highly of myself. I think we are trained to think that what is offered is what we are worthy of and making a choice to leave yourself open for something better is tempting fate to leave you empty or desolate. This chip is often on my shoulder because I make decisions that are often second guessed or judged by the people who are supposed to encourage me. To trust me. To believe in me. I often have to posture confidence that I don't always have. I just want support and understanding. For someone to look through my lens and get it in the way that I do. As a result, I have to fake that I am okay without it. It is exhausting to constantly need to combat those around you and scream for them to accept you and your decisions. Since there's no one in my corner, I have to pretend like it is easy and hold my chin up because I refuse to make myself an easy target for others to beat down.

When I was finally hired, so many people looked at me with disgust because they wanted to make sure I knew the "clientele" I would be working with. Coming from my family who have mostly encountered middle class white people, it is no surprise that the idea of actively wanting to work with students of many different races and socio-economic statuses would be alarming. Thankfully, my Aunt Pat had a conversation with me, where she was ecstatic that I had been hired in Port Huron because she knew how much I loved working with diverse populations. I don't think she knows how often she makes me feel seen in moments where I make very hard decisions. [For reference, she is the only person who told me she was sad I quit my teaching job and knew it had been a hard choice because I had wanted to be a teacher my whole life, so if I was walking away from it, I had to have a good reason.]

For what it's worth, this job was perfect for me. It truly was meant to be mine. I am so glad I waited and took the path I did to get there because it was it opened my world. By leaving myself open to receive it, I received other gifts in my two year detour, and I was able to find my footing in a way I don't think would have happened if I accepted just any job that came my way.

In my first year, I was paired with Stefanie, who is brilliant. She was such a wonderful co-teacher for me, and we got along great. We were on the same page, and she was my partner and equal. We shared every task rather equally. It was lovely to work with her, and I didn't have to think about curriculum because she had so many things for us to pull from. If I had an idea for something, she would have something similar from her many years of teaching, so we didn't have to waste time recreating things. I cannot express enough how much I enjoyed working with her.

That first year was a wild ride. I had a sixth hour class that was a disaster! At the end of the first week of school, Stefanie marched down to our principal and told him that our class was not going to remain as it was. It had a weird mix of students who had a variety of needs that did not go well with each other. There was a girl in that class who had an ankle monitor, and at some point in the year, she called me a bitch under her breath for the entire period. At the end of the class, I asked Stefanie if I heard correctly, and she verified. We kind of laughed about it because it wasn't worth calling her out and causing a scene.

While I don't have favorites, my second period class was very special to me. It was my only class that I was alone for, so it felt like I could take more ownership of them and my teaching. Again, Stefanie was amazing, and I loved working with her, but it can be weird to have two adults in your classroom. It's a delicate balance of two voices, whereas that class was only mine. The makeup of children was amazing as well. It was the only class where every single student turned in every single assignment. There was a culture in it where everyone fit in and raised the bar on the work completed.

I know that this was the class environment because one of those students switched into another class, and he stopped completing his work when he made the switch to a class where only half the students completed their tasks. He needed to fit in with his peers when he was in the second hour class, so he committed to the work.

Other highlights from the year include a student repeatedly calling me an asshole to my face because he was upset about something and another student who threw up in my class. (Two years later, I was informed that another student gave him an edible, and he was so high, he threw up.) At one point, Stefanie told me I had seen just about everything that a teacher could see throughout their career within my one year.

To be clear, there were some very hard days at my job, but I was very fulfilled working with my students. I love students who are cheeky and vocal because they have personality. I love knowing that the world will not run them over. While I love working with everyone who comes my way, there is an extra reward in winning over students slowly throughout the course of the year, and I feel like I was often able to do that in my time at PH.

Before my second year, Logan and I were voluntold that we would be the class advisors for the incoming Freshman. We would work with them for their four years (or at least, were supposed to). Our president, Ms. Carleyfaith, is still someone so near and dear to my heart. She was also my student, and we got to know each other very well because we spent so much time together. It was a lot of fun to be the advisor and work with my friend on silly projects.

During my second year, our district began DEI work in our building, and I was a member of the team. Once a month, I would attend meetings with other people in various roles to work on implementing PD and strategies to reduce our race and gender gaps. This work really ignited me to think about my teaching practices and implementing the lessons from our work to improve the student experience. This is a point where my career has shifted, and I can see myself holding a role in the future that works more closely in this area of schools. As someone who holds privilege, I always want to use it to help others. (None of us benefit from the current system, and if you think differently, you have some unpacking and unlearning to do. It's hard work, but it is worth unraveling that string. I promise.)

In my schedule, I had three sections of co-taught, and my co-teacher was changed to Jon. It is remarkable how different it is to have a man in your classroom with you. He was a football coach, and the boys respected him in a way that cut down on our behavioral issues. It is frustrating to know that a man's presence changes the entire dynamic. I will not bash Jon because I do truly love and appreciate him, but he was not an equal with me like Stefanie was. I took the lead on teaching, prepping, and grading, so it is annoying that he had the respect.

At one point, I was working with Meggan, our behavioral interventionist, and she came to do a restorative circle with my last period class. It was so terrible every single day. There were verbal arguments between students, and I didn't know what to do about it. She called our principal into the meeting, and she removed me from the conversation. I was on my way up north to a friend's friend's wedding, and I got a call from him saying that he was moving my sixth period class around for Monday's classes and getting some of the heavy hitters into other classes to break them up.

One of the students was moved into my co-taught class, and he became a whole other person (THANKS, JON!) Another was moved into another English teacher's section. Overall, that class was able to get it together. It was really nice to have someone in my corner, who made that call to help those students and myself get through the year. By changing their schedule, they changed the dynamic in multiple classes.

This was the year that had the shut-down. I made copies of a graphic novel version of Romeo and Juliet for students to read and found links to various versions of the movie instead of having students read the play. I made slides where students had must do and can do activities. I emailed students once a week to check in. It was speaking into the void because I hardly every got anything back. I had so much empathy for those students, and I wanted to provide a flexible learning environment for my students.

At the conclusion of the school year, I reached out to my principal about switching away from all 9th grade classes. I was tired of the demands of "training" them to become citizens of our school, and there were days when I sat in my classroom at the end of the day with the lights off because I was so defeated by the classroom management necessary. Two of my friends would stop in on their ways to their cars to see if I was okay. I had a very loving and supportive community, and I am still grateful to those two for making sure I was okay.

For the following school year, I was moved into an 11th grade position. There were not any co-taught sections because Keiryn and Jon had been a team for years! Since I had the students as 9th graders, I had built a lot of the relationships necessary for a smooth year. We started the year in a hybrid method, where we taught one half of the students on one day and the other half on the other. Rotating back and forth between the two groups, I taught the same lesson 10 times. (IT WAS SO BAD!) Fridays were kind of a mess because it flipped between the two in person sections and then at some point Fridays became virtual days. We had online activities and in person activities, but the students rarely did their at home work. It took a really long time to get through anything because it was so disjointed.

At some point, we moved to a virtual setting, where students had thirty minute classes in the morning and then async work in the afternoon. During that time, I tried to teach The Crucible. It was a wild time because no one was actually reading the story, so I tried to use the video, but no one was watching that either. We flipped back to hybrid and then back to virtual. My brain was constantly thinking about what I was going to teach and how it could be modified to the various models we were using. I had decision fatigue by the end of that year because it was constantly shifting. When I was done with work, I would watch mindless tv like Impractical Jokers because I was overwhelmed by my job and the mental gymnastics.

Some highlights from that year were that Keiryn and I worked on our units to be less focused on the white perspective in the stories we read while providing more of a shift to understanding the power dynamics of various groups. It came from our DEI work in my second year, and we wanted to shift the lens of our teaching. Other highlights included watching my students mature from their freshman year. I really loved that group of students, and I was happy to work with them twice.

Between my third year and forth year, I was roped into doing summer school. It was all virtual/online, and it was more of a credit recovery. It was a really bad decision in hind sight because I genuinely needed to rest from the burn out caused by Covid. However, the $40 an hour or whatever the rate was spoke to me, and I wanted that extra money. Let this be a lesson to us all that money and filling our time is not always worth it. Our mental health and rest are important.

The following year, I worked with students and my colleague to begin what we called the Pride Club for students interested in having a space for those who identified as LGBTQ+ or their allies. Not surprisingly, this club had a lot of personality, and I often felt overwhelmed in our meetings because that mental exhaustion had continued into the year.

In this year, we were "back to normal", but everything was not normal. I tried to teach things as a class, and it was a bust. I pivoted to have things more individual for the students, and it was a bust. Students were just as fatigued as I was, and they had lost a lot of motivation. They had been changed by Covid, and I think we, as a society, did a disservice to them. I am curious what the long term impact for that particular age group is/will be.

There was a week in October, where I cried every single day because I felt like things were so terrible. I even had a panic attack in one of my classes because I had to talk to them about their behavior and meeting expectations. On that Friday, we had the Cross Town Show Down where we played football against the other high school in our district. Afterwards, a handful of people went to get drinks at a bar. Jon and I were leaving at the same time, and I asked him for a hug. We stood in the parking lot, as I sobbed on his shoulder about my week and how upsetting everything was. If I am being honest, that week decided my fate at PH, and I knew I couldn't stay the following year.

In December, I had more realizations about needing to leave, but in March, I planned a trip for our spring break. I decided to go on a road trip to Wilmington, North Carolina to see the various shooting locations for One Tree Hill. On that Friday, I had a campsite in Hocking Hills, Ohio, and I was heading into snow and cold, but I had cried to Keiryn during 6th period about how much I hated my job and everything in my life, so I was going to leave and deal with the cold when I got there. I wasn't putting it off.

On my drive, I sobbed for most of the ride, and I heard a voice in my head repeatedly tell me "you need to quit." I called my friend, and we talked about how hard it had been to work somewhere where I had lost my people and how defeated I was by my job. She was the first person I told I was going to quit. That night, I resigned to my decision, and I told Jon that when I got back, I was going to put in my resignation. He tried to talk me out of it, but I knew that I couldn't unmake-up my mind.

The next day, I crafted my letter, and I knew I was going to submit it on the first day back from break.

After I printed the letter, I was scared to talk to my boss. I was anxious about my decision. However, I knew it was what needed to happen. At the end of the day, I went into his office, and I handed it to him. Before he accepted it, he talked me through my decision. He listened to me as I told him that it was hard for me to feel like I was failing. I had a class where one student completed an assignment and got 100% on it and everyone else failed or didn't submit it. I told him that I was wasting everyone's time because I was a bad teacher. (To his credit, he told me that I was an amazing teacher and tried to talk me down from being so hard on myself.) We talked about my friend group that had fallen apart and how it factored into my decision. I told him I knew he had eyes and might not know what happened, but he could see that people who were so close with me were now hanging out without my presence. He told me that he saw that shift, and he knew that it would be hard for me to still feel at home there because of that. At the end of our meeting, he accepted my letter, and I accepted my decision. This was going to be my last year there.

One of our custodians, Jason, told me that he could sense a shift in my attitude once I formally quit. He saw me as someone who was happy again. Someone who was relieved. I was back to my former self.

I waited a while to tell my students, but one day, I was asked if something in my personal life had changed because I was happier, and I had to break the news that the something was my decision to leave. Word travels fast.

I had a lot of conversations with my students about my decision and how I felt like a bad teacher. My sweet students, especially from that class were one student completed the assignment correctly, were mad at me for thinking that. They told me that I was amazing and their lack of effort wasn't reflective of me. We had been reading The Awakening by Kate Chopin, and my students were making connections between me and the protagonist. Someone who was unhappy in their circumstances and didn't know what way to go. Instead of the ocean, I decided to walk into an unknown future.

Even now, I have conversations with that particular group of students through Facebook or texting, where I am told that they are unsure of their own paths. They have attempted moving forward in the ways expected of them, but they have decided that those paths aren't right. It is refreshing that I can be a voice of encouragement for those young adults. I was once told that I am meant to be in people's lives as their teacher at particular moments of time, and I think that is especially true for that group of 2023 graduates. They needed an adult who showed them that sometimes life isn't a straight path forward. Sometimes you need to duck and dive when life is smacking you, and you need to be willing to acknowledge that something isn't right or isn't working. I wish I had had an adult to tell me that it was okay to detour in the way that I have decided to, and I think I was sent to give that message to others. To be in someone's corner and to make sure they feel seen and heard in the way that I myself crave.

I was angry for the duration of that year. For so many reasons. I was mad at myself for feeling inadequate. I was mad at myself for walking away from my career. For not being strong enough to endure and keep pushing forward. I was angry at my school because the work I had done with DEI went away. I was wasting my time on work that felt so important - IS so important. I was lost and unsure of what steps I had to make to get out of the place I was in. I was dejected because I no longer had my community.

At the end of that year, I had so many students get me birthday presents that were each so meaningful. One student got me a Barnes & Noble gift card because I had changed her life by teaching her that reading could be for enjoyment. Other students wrote me cards and letters about how happy they were to have me as their 9th and 11th grade teacher. I know I have those letters somewhere, and I need to read through them now that time has passed. Again, that group of students from my time at PH has imprinted on me, and I genuinely love(d) all of them.

I know that I left on some bad terms because of my anger and misery, and I genuinely regret how bad things got for me. I was burnt out, and I was a whole different person than who I wanted to be and who I had been. One day, Jon told me that I needed to cool it because I was burning bridges that I might not want burned in the future, and I told him that I was so angry that I wanted to scorch the earth and leave nothing standing.

There was a day before I moved to Massachusetts when I had a conversation with Keiryn about how I left things, and she said that no one held it against me because I was so clearly not myself. I am glad that people know my true nature, but I hope that I never get to that place again.

For all it's worth, I loved working at Port Huron. I love being friends with those students on social media and receiving random messages about how meaningful I was to them. There is one post I get tagged in every year about how I was the only teacher who impacted that student and how she still has a letter from me.

If I am being honest, I don't think I am back at a place where I feel confident in my teaching abilities like I felt at my time in Port Huron. Leaving in such a bad place and then all the turmoil I have faced since then with my family has shaken me. I feel very distant from who I used to be. Repeatedly losing layer after layer of who I was has left me with areas that still need a new foundation. I am rebuilding my life, so it makes sense that this part of my identity is still being healed and repaired. The old version of me got burnt out because I cared so very deeply about my students at the expense of myself and my wellbeing. I took on so much to make sure they felt loved and supported that I took it away from what I needed to pour into myself.

When I left, I kept saying that I was pouring myself into a bucket with a hole at the bottom, and I watched as everything fell all over the floor. There is a level of self-preservation that has been put on as a lid, protecting my energy. I don't have the same level of care-free outpouring that I used to. I don't think that is inherently a bad thing.

In writing this, I don't think it's that I need to get back to that version of who I was as a teacher, endless compassion and understanding. However, I realize that there is something missing in the connections I have with my students. When I get back from this break, I am going to find a way to incorporate some of the parts that feel like they've been missing, and I will commit to trying to fill those gaps going into our next school year. I don't have to be that old version of myself to be a good teacher. I can change and mature as I face my experiences and grow older. It's okay for my teaching and compassion to look differently and be reflective of my current phase of life. I see the world differently in my thirties, and it is okay to give myself grace to discover how that is reflected in my teaching.