The Winding Path Up and Out

For some reason, my brain organizes life in sections of time... this many weeks until this event, or this many months since that event.  Almost like milestones or something.  Maybe that is messed up, I don't know. 
Wednesday marks two months since I boarded an airplane in London, returning back to the USA after almost four wonderful months spent in the north of England.  Two months!  Where has the time gone?! 
Since coming back home, I have had a massive amount of time to think and reflect.  It has been a hard road filled with some deep depression and true soul searching.  I'm ever so thankful for the continual faithfulness and patience of the Lord.  I would love to tell you that I bounced back from living a somewhat fairytale life, but that wouldn't be true.  It has been a struggle.  Some days have felt as though I am army crawling up a steep hill, inch by painful inch.  Some days I am up and walking.  It has been a weary journey. 
A couple years ago, I would have guiltily hidden my struggles.  I had this notion that if I appeared weak no one would want to be around be and they would think less of me.  It was only through the advice of trusted friends and family and working of the Lord in my heart, that I realized there was no shame in depression.  That in itself was freeing.  It kinda shoves you to the ground in the realization that there is no way you can do life successfully without God.
So when I once again found myself in a valley, I was not ashamed or fearful.  It was more like an 'oh darn' moment.  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord would bring me through it, and that there was a reason that I was in this place.  Still, it has been a tough couple months. 
In England, I had a brand new life.  Every day was essentially a new adventure, filled with new people, scenery, experiences, and lessons.  For my personality, that is like pure happiness.  I love new things and might secretly or not so secretly enjoy the unknown.  That is who I am!  The adventure of life holds so much exciting mystery and I love discovering it. 
I had a new church, with a new community and group of friends.  Starting over with that part of life was challenging, but rewarding and filled with inspiring and phenomenal people.  There was a new city, filled with culture, history, streets, and people that I had absolutely no idea about.  And of course, a school. Up until this point, I had never taught full-time... just part-time.  Before England, I wondered if I was truly cut out to teach full-time.  In about a week I realized, that yes, I was cut out for it.  In fact, this was part of my main calling in life. 
I remember the first week I started teaching.  So many nerves!  I was a bit unsure, and confidence wasn't particularly present.  Would I be able to communicate clearly to my students?  Would they think I was dumb?  Would they like music?  Would they learn what they were supposed to?
By the end of the week though, my confidence had grown in leaps and bounds, and I realized that it didn't matter so much what the students thought of me.  What really mattered was that they learned, and somehow found joy in learning.
Most importantly though I was hit in the face by one thing.  These students were human beings.  Now, that sounds a bit silly, but I realized how important consciously recognizing their humanity was.  It opened my eyes to see my students as more than just warm bodies in desks and more than just a way to realize music.  These people had dreams and talents, fears and humor, curiosity, hurt, intelligence, and joy.  It actually overwhelmed me.  Teaching now went beyond the academic subject of music.  It was about life and connecting learning to the heart and mind of each student.  Gosh!  I could teach the 'perfect' lesson, hitting every major point and including advanced teaching technique, but unless it connected with my students, it was an absolutely pointless endeavor. 
I could go on and on about this.  For hours in fact.  Suffice to say, that as I began to incorporate this into my teaching, the responses of my students stunned me.  Sure, some of my lessons sucked.  There is no way around it.  I majorly failed at times.  But my students graciously carried on.  Their patience and support was humbling.  I was astounded by their intelligence, and moved by their love.  To the very end they gave me countless opportunities to confidently experiment in my teaching.  When something went well, they made sure I knew it 100%. 
I realized that my favorite teachers were the ones that connected to me, cared about me, and challenged me.  They expected excellence from me.  An excellence that I didn't always think I was capable of, yet their unwavering faith in me encouraged and pushed me to achieve exactly what I thought was impossible.  I tried to teach that way.  Maybe sometimes I praised too much.  Maybe sometimes we had too much 'fun' in class and not enough 'focus'.  Good gracious, there were many things I wouldn't do the same.  But I do know this... I would always repeat the encouraging, challenging, and connecting times with my students.
The love I felt upon leaving, and have continued to feel since then has broken me time and again.  In a good way though.  The notes received and the messages still being sent never fail to bring me to tears.  How I was blessed to student teach at a school with such beautiful people, I will never understand.  But I am grateful.  Eternally grateful that the Lord placed me in a place where I was able to learn, mature, laugh and cry.  The last two months have shown me that and given me time to reflect with great awe upon the many blessings that the four months in England held.  I have finally begun to move forward.  Moving forward does not mean you forget the past.  Instead, it means going forward in life, having been changed by the past and keeping those memories alive. 
As overly dramatic as it sounds, my students changed my life.  The imprint they have left on my heart and teaching is incredible.  Without them, I would not be who I am today.  I miss them so much it hurts.  The fact that I may never see them again drives me crazy.  But I'm grateful.  It came to me that in my efforts to believe in them, support them, challenge and inspire them, it actually often had the reverse effect in that they ended up doing that to me.  I left them and live on today being inspired because of them.  It boggles my mind.  These kids continue to believe in me, celebrating my successes, hoping for an exciting future, lovingly encouraging me to keep on.  That is love.  Funny how life works. 
This depression fog is lifting.  God is bringing peace despite the unknown future.  And my kids... oh these wonderful people... they are making sure that I know that they believe in me.  So, I'm up and walking again on this road called life.  Purpose and joy are returning.  And I have a smile, that comes from a changed and renewed heart.  Come at me life!

Tough Love

Teaching is fun, rewarding, hilarious, and life-changing.  

It also can break your heart. 

I walked into my Year 9 class excited to begin ground bass compositions.  I hadn't seen the students in over week due to the class cycle we teach on.  They had been given a simple homework task of completing a worksheet on melodies and harmonies.  The schedule for that day was to begin to notate those melodies and harmonies (along with a simple ground bass) into Sibelius.  In my mind I thought things would be easy and smooth.  Of course that isn't always the case, as I am quickly finding out.  

As I explained the rubric for the compositions I walked around, quickly observing that quite a few students had not completed the homework.  I was puzzled.  They had been set a simple task, I had sent them multiple messages saying I was available for extra help, and the previous lessons had been carefully scaffolded by another cooperating teacher and myself.  All the supports had been put in place.  And yet... the desired result was not there.  I asked several students why they had not completed the work and their reply was a noncholant "I didn't understand".  I felt rotten and was trying desperately to figure out why they just didn't complete the work.  

Then I realized that this was a deciding moment between my class and I.  This was when they figured out if I was in earnest or if I was wishy-washy.  I had to put my foot down.  In doing so, I knew I was risking their excitement and love for the new American teacher.  But, in the end, their learning is most important.  

I quickly consulted with the cooperating teacher and was told that they should be put in detention, per school policy.  Walking back to these students with this knowledge was horrid.  I did not want to relay this information.  I wanted to run away for a split second in order to avoid the confrontation.  But that isn't a real teacher.  Gently and sadly I spoke quietly to the students who had not completed their work, informing them of the impending detentions.  Their faces fell and anger flickered across their eyes.  My heart sunk further and further as I handed out a total of six detentions over those next few minutes.  

The class was abuzz with the fact that I had just handed out detentions, and I went to the front of the class with a heavy heart.  I stood there, waiting for the students to stop talking.  They knew something was up.  I began to cry as I told them how painful it was for me to give detentions.  They looked at each other in shock at my honesty.  I asked students to give suggestions about possible solutions to not understanding the homework. They all came to the conclusion that it was good idea to come see me for help or to email me.  We then went back to the lesson... my heart remained heavy.  

I didn't think it would be that hard.  It is so not fun.  But it isn't about you... it is about them and their learning and their character and their future.  As one of my professors said "Tough love is still love".  That was like balm to my soul.  I still love my students, no matter what.  And because of that love, sometimes I have to make decisions they don't like.  

Since then, their work has improved.  They are asking for advice and help all the time, and they are succeeding quicker.  I am grateful for the hard times in teaching, because so often their produce brilliant life lessons!

Thoughts of a student teacher

     

Over the last five years, I have doubted from time to time that I was meant to teach.  There would be 

moments where I felt so confident and other moments when I felt virtually incapable.  I think these moments will always go back in forth in life.  But I no longer doubt whether I was meant to teach or not.  

The last few weeks I have experienced my steepest learning curve yet.  I knew beforehand that this would happen, I just didn't have a clue as to how difficult it would be.  Everything from curriculum to lesson planning to weekly schedules to accomodating students with disabilities is vastly different and is discussed and referred to with different terminology.  

That first day of staff meetings was a blur with my head spinning as I desperately tried to grasp onto something familiar. At times I wondered if they actually spoke English.  I felt like a floundering fish with absolutely no idea what I was doing.  That only continued to build up during the first couple days of school.  Confidence took a nose dive, although I hid it under a layer of humor, smiles, and keeping "busy".  I honestly wasn't that busy, in fact, half the time I just sat look at a computer screen wondering what to type.  

If you know me and my personality, it tends to be go, go, go.... with very little rest and long lists.  That was rather opposite the first week of school.  Turtle speed.  And that irritated me and frustrated me to the point of tears.  The second week was better as I began to adjust and add to my role.  Every night I would drag home stacks of textbooks, perusing them, studying terms, looking at lesson plans, and googling more things than I thought possible.  (Thank you Lord for Google)  I asked questions, played music, analyzed, and worked hard.  I said yes to everything, and no to nothing.

This third week was a roller coaster of ups and downs, sucesses, failures, tears, smiles, and yet a settling somehow. The last three weeks have been some of the hardest for me.  Being in another country, away from family and friends, no longer a few feet away from professors' advice, and finally doing what I have trained so long to do has been an absolute adventure.  Harder than I thought, but ridiculously more rewarding.  Some thoughts so far...

1. Saying yes to everything doesn't always make you a better teacher.  

In fact it can have quite the opposite results.  Learning to take a step back and look at the whole picture and possible outcome is essential.  

2. Teaching means nothing if it is not about the students.

They are the reason for teaching.  You as the teacher aren't the reason.  It isn't about you.  It is about guiding them in learning and preparing them for life.  

3. You know more than you think and less than you think.  

Training and life experiences add up.  Being confident that you can handle something because of what you have learned is key.  And yet, it is so necessary to ask questions and seek guidance from many people.  Teaching is a team thing, not a solo one-man show. 

4. There is nothing quite like the sparkle in a student's eye when they understand a concept or successfuly complete a task or turn in a brilliant piece of homework.  

Even the little things are worth celebrating.  Applaud success, excellence and effort and encourage continuance. 

5. If you have, they have fun.  

But having fun does not equal no boundaries.  On the contrary, setting the boundaries from the start must happen, and even though the first bit may seem miserable, consistency pays off and the end result is well worth it.  

6. Even teachers have to stand up for themselves.  

Planning and organization are a must.  But so is knowing who you are and being real about your capabilities and needs.  To remain strong and sane you must be bold, honest, clear and gracious to those around you.  

More specifc stories to come.  

Cheerio y'a!