Tales from a Teacher-Mama

It’s my job.

They don’t want to work–of course they’d rather play, mess around on the computer, even look at books. There’s daydreaming and self-stimming, whining and arguing. They challenge me at every turn.

But it’s my job. My job to help them learn. My job to show them how their choices lead to consequences, good or bad. My job to get through their defenses so they feel safe and confident enough to take in language, reading, writing, math, science, social studies, and health. My job to help them figure out how to navigate their way in this world.

What a job! It comes with paperwork and deadlines. Budget cuts and extra duties. Lesson plans and parent newsletters. Calls to parents and sometimes calls to children’s services. Copies to make and grades to calculate. State tests and in-service workshops. My time is stretched as thin as my paycheck is.

But I chose this job. I choose it every day. It is my profession. It is my calling. It is my passion.

I choose this job because it is fulfilling. I know that I am living my destiny, and by so doing I am shaping the destiny of children and their families. It is a long, winding journey with no destination, only the requirement to keep moving, progressing, growing.

The rewards are great–not large or tangible, but significant. A child’s smile at getting a right answer. A giggle after tears. A parent’s thanks. An acknowledgment from a former student on graduation day. A note of praise and encouragement from the principal. A pat on the back from a colleague. A moment of reflection on how far a child has come. On how far I have come.

I am a teacher. It is my job. I choose it because I can’t imagine doing anything else.