I love figures like Abraham Lincoln, who was largely self-taught.

Dear Readers,

The schools tried to make a good teacher out of me. They really tried.

And I must confess that the people in charge of helping first year teachers were nice, good and helpful. And all the help I could ever want was available to me: Books, websites, training sessions, mentor teachers, a dedicated principal and a caring dean of students. But near the end of the school year I wanted to tell all those helpful, caring people, “Stop trying to help me so much. You’re wasting your time. I’m never going to be a teacher again, so don’t bother trying to make me a better one.”

Well, I was going through some of my files, and I found this email I wrote a few months back to my mentor teacher, who I will call Ms. C. I don’t think I ever sent this email, and I don't think the email is finished. It has some neat ideas in it, but mostly it’s whiny and full of excuses for why I couldn’t hack it as a teacher.

It is published here for you to satisfy your nosiness, and to satisfy some weird urge I have to show you personal things maybe I shouldn’t show you. Maybe I’m putting it on Telemoonfa Time to get a mystic connectivity with real people via cyberspace.

Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Ms. C,

Here’s another email from your mentee.

I went to a BEST meeting on classroom management last night. It was nice. And I watched some Harry Wong stuff on You-Tube. And I got a really good night’s sleep, which is rare because I have an infant in the house, and last night and this morning I felt great about the teaching profession. I was optimistic.

And now after my two periods today, I’m less optimistic. But I’m still sort of optimistic!

I’ve got my classes to stop passing notes, but that disruptive behavior has just been replaced by other disruptive behaviors. It’s talking, talking, talking, blurting out, blurting out, blurting out, and I keep threatening to go back to the really strict “one warning and you get sent to Mr. G.’s office” but I never do because they get quiet for a minute or two, and then I just try to continue with the lesson.

And I’m such a sucker for letting them go to the bathroom! This might sound crazy, but it’s sooooooo hard for me to tell students when they can and can’t use the restroom. And even if I know they’re lying, how can I say to a child who is wiggling his or her seat, no you may not use the restroom? Sympathy overcomes me, and I let them go, even though I know that they’re just messing around in there, because there are 5 or 6 students gone. It’s hard to explain… My head wants to say no but my heart wants to say yes.

I’ve had to overcome a lot of obstacles in my personality and the way I interact with people in order to become a better teacher. I still have a long way to go, if this is going to be my profession. Like I told you, in my previous jobs and activities, I’ve never been in the position where I have to tell people what to do. Well, I directed a play in high school and in college, but the people I was working with were all on board with me- they were more mature and respectful, and they wanted to be involved with what I was doing.

Now I find myself in a job that requires me to tell people – often immature and often disrespectful people- what to do. And I’m expected to get them to do what I tell them to do. And I know that being in charge of others is second nature to some people, but for a guy like me, it’s not so easy.

It’s so hard for me to see myself as someone who is capable and smart enough to be in the position to tell people what to do. For example, if I am lecturing or explaining instructions to the class and I notice someone reading a novel, I think, “Well, reading that novel is probably just as important as what I have to say.” Or if they’re talking, sometimes I really think, “Well, my lesson’s not that great anyway, and in the long run, will it really matter that they goofed off during a middle school drama class?”

And even though I’ve put a stop to note-passing, I’m still wrestling with the morality of stopping note-passing in my mind. Is it right to forbid students to pass notes? My hesitation to enforce the no note-passing rule stems from my desire to not infringe upon other’s personal property. I want to give them freedom, you know? Freedom of private property and freedom of the mind… I want to respect the students as smart individuals, who know best how to spend their time. And if they think it’s best to spend their time not doing their class work, who am I to tell them, “Yes, the bellwork is important.”

And now I think that teaching is much like controlling students minds! We are subjecting these little people to stuff that they don’t want to hear.

When I was in college studying to become a teacher, I read a lot of Alfie Kohn. I used to like Kohn a lot, and I wanted to run my classrooms in a very loose, unstructured way, kind of like a college seminar course. I wanted to let students roam free and discover knowledge on their own, and I would be a facilitator… I would be like a helpful librarian, leading students in the right direction. Or I would be like the Rat in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and my students would be the turtles… but now I think Kohn is lame in a lot of ways. I guess I ought to ditch Alfie Kohn and lean more towards Harry Wong.

In a way it sounds like I have a loss of faith in the American public school system, (not necessarily American, but other countries too.) In a way it sounds like I have lost faith (or never had faith) with the idea that these kids ought to be in school and sitting still and reading and writing. (I love figures like Abraham Lincoln, who was largely self-taught.) And indeed when I was in high school, I had a bad attitude about school. With the exception of my English, art, and drama classes, I hated school. I loved college, though, because there was so much freedom there, and I did extraordinarily well in college. In fact, I typically had one of the highest grades in my teacher preparation courses. I’m not saying that to brag (OK, maybe I am a little bit) but I’m saying that to point out that, judging from my current teaching performance, even college was an inadequate gauge in preparing me to be a good teacher.

I recently watched a documentary on Thomas Jefferson, and when he founded the University of Virginia, he intended it to be a place where there were no grades, diplomas, etc., but that students came when they wanted to come and left when they felt like they had a good education… Thomas Jefferson is a man after my own heart. I only wish I was a man of his discipline and courage.

I’ve always had a difficult time getting behind products and selling them. I actually tried selling alarm systems door to door. That was supposed to last a summer, but it only lasted a week and a half. I have no brand loyalty. I see no need to get excited about something, and sometimes I am not excited about education, and if I am not excited about education, and the students are not excited about education, then my class becomes a zoo, and I become a zookeeper who lets the animals go free and eat the spectators.

Its hard for me to take freedom away from students.

I’ve done customer service before, and the rule there is just be nice to everybody and give them what they want. I let myself be disrespected when I worked in customer service, and now I’m letting myself be disrespected by my students. I let them criticize the way I teach.

It seems like every choice I make, there are always complainers. If I say, “It’s due tomorrow,” students call out, “That’s too soon!” Or if I say, “It’s due the day after tomorrow,” students call out “that’s too far away, this assignment will take me like, two seconds.” And instead of asserting that I’m the teacher and I know when an assignment should be due, I just say, not-sarcastically, “Really? Um,.. yeah I suppose adjusting the due date is not that big of a deal, when do you think the assignment should be due?”

They say, “How come you let so-and-so sit wherever they want but you won’t let me sit here?”

And I say, “I don’t notice anyone out of their seat.”

And they say, “Look around Mr. Bird.”

So, I’ve never been a good salesperson, and I’ve also never been a parent. When I was chatting with your husband about classroom management, he mentioned to me that one reason he thought he was pretty successful with classroom management was that he has two teenage daughters, so he’s used to interacting with that age group, and he’s comfortable guiding them around, leading them in the correct, or approximately correct, life.

Anyway, the point is that in both of my classes I have several students who disrespect me and I let them do it because… I don’t know why.

This has been a long email, and rambling, but these things are pressing on my mind, and I needed to let them out.

Sincerely,
Telemoonfa