In the last couple of days, I’ve had to face the truth that I may have to find a job outside of teaching. There are limited positions available in along the coast, and I refuse to move somewhere that I don’t want to live. While the hunt for the perfect fit is not yet over, I am steeling myself to face the worst if the stars do not align.
The reality of doing something else for a living is heartbreaking. I absolutely love what I do. The ability to have a career where I am able to get a taste of pretty much every other job on the planet is a beautiful experience. The best thing is, while I’m teaching my students, they’re really teaching me.
My students taught me the power of laughter. Humor is such an underutilized tool. I have had far greater success with my students gently nudging them to do the right thing with a well-timed joke or an exaggerated sigh of exasperation that they know is fake. My favorite times are when a students makes me bust out laughing in the middle of class because they did or said something completely off the wall, which inevitably causes the class to send out gales of laughter too.
Laughing at something together creates a powerful bond. It actually takes quite a bit of vulnerability to truly let out a giant belly laugh over a joke or a certain circumstance. Laughter is also the best way to ease hurt, and if you can make your students laugh or even bravely put on a smile through their tears, you are helping them more than you realize.
My students taught me the power of mutual respect. I go to great lengths to show my students that they are respected in my classroom. I ask them to do things instead of order them. I say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, even when the compliance is not enthusiastic. I make sure I listen to student’s concerns fully, even when my eyes are mentally rolling so far back in my head they are in danger of becoming lost in my gray matter. 99.9% of the time, I know that I have my students’ respect. It those times when I indulge in my own bad mood or snap at a student in frustration that their respect for me becomes diminished.
Knowing that you’re respected in any given situation is an empowering feeling. No matter how many times a student shows disrespect, holding out any token of respect causes them to shift their mindset and usually ends up in changed behavior and a mumbled apology. No matter how tempting tit for tat may be, clinging to the higher standard of dignity as an adult in any situation is immensely gratifying and highly useful.
My students taught me the power of simple gestures. Many, many times when I’m feeling down, a student has given me a picture that they have drawn, or stopped to say a personal goodbye at the end of class, or randomly told me that they think I’m a great teacher. Small things. Simple things. Free things. But it truly is the little efforts that make a huge difference.
So many times we move along our paths without taking advantage of the opportunities offered along the way. Is someone visibly harried and stressed out? Compliment them. Is there someone who is usually a ‘background person’ in your life with whom you don’t interact much? Stop and say hello, maybe make some conversation. Did you buy two chocolate bars but really only want a bite? Split them with a friend. Don’t listen to the voices that tell you nobody will care or notice your efforts; trust me, they will.
My students taught me the power of listening. Teachers like to talk. That is our job. Yet this becomes a problem when the words flowing out of our mouths cut off the words trying to get to our ears. Whenever I take the time to bring an unruly student aside to chat with them, they inevitably articulate some problem or issue either outside or inside of class that is affecting their behavior. Even if I cannot resolve the problem for them, my simple act of listening usually does the trick to change their demeanor.
Most of the time, our actions are simply bids for attention. Some people may need the attention just to validate their existence. Others need it to get through their struggles. Whichever way you slice it, taking the time out to listen is always a deposit in the bank of that relationship. Feeling listened to is a deep human need, and those who are able to provide that service freely and without expectation are rare and valued individuals.
My students taught me the power of love. As a teacher, I want nothing less than for my students to suddenly awaken to the fact that they actually love to read, they can’t wait to write the next essay, and they can hardly contain their exuberance for the next class discussion. As much as that would be my dream come true, the reality is that there are some students who will never ever reach that point while they are with you. Sometimes, they are not hungering for knowledge, but simply starving for love.
Giving your love to someone without stipulations is a powerful thing. The more trouble a student causes, they more they desperately need that affirmation, that feeling of security, and that knowledge that your love is a constant. Love does not have to manifest into like; many students/people are unlikable. Yet there is not one who is completely devoid of anything to love.
Overall, my students have illuminated to me over and over the deep need that every individual has for human connection. Those attachments range from deep, soul-connecting conversations to shallow mentions of the latest fashions, but at the core, all of our interactions are building small threads person-to-person in our network, which web out to create the unique fabric of our lives.
As much as possible, take the opportunity to make your connections full, deep, and rich. Give of yourself so that you may receive of others. Take a step back and allow everybody to teach you something, regardless of their role in your life. Be the first one to show vulnerability. Trust.
My students may leave my class knowing how to write an essay, but I will leave knowing just a little bit more of my purpose in the world. And that, my friends, is more valuable than any Harvard education.