Today was bittersweet. It was in timely contrast to the post I made last night about the beginning of my teaching career. Now, about seventeen years later, I am an academic administrator in a nonprofit private school for girls. It is a wonderful program, staffed by caring and dedicated people who provide school and counseling to at-risk girls. Did you catch that? ALL GIRLS. My two year anniversary with the organization is quickly approaching, and I have accomplished a whole lot professionally, too much to get into the nitty gritty here. I have partnered with a counseling administrator with whom I work seamlessly, and have come to think of as a dear friend. And then there are the girls...
I know by building a stellar program- by working with my faculty to ensure the best possible academic program, and by working with the counseling team to provide an integrated and holistic approach to school- I am indirectly making a difference in the lives of our students. I even counsel them on occasion (about school-the way a guidance counselor would), meet with them to discuss plans and goals for the future, and help them process and reflect on negative behaviors in the classroom when they surface. But I don't connect with them in the way I have with my students in the past. Much of this is because my role in their lives is different. I can't help but think a little bit of it is because they're girls. Though I'm not sure about the latter.
Today we had a transition ceremony. This is when we celebrate students who have completed their time with us and are preparing to return to another school. We have these ceremonies every semester, as the public school semester comes to a close. We talk about all the accomplishments of the girls, how much they've grown, the transformation we often see in them from the beginning through the current time. It's a reflective and celebratory time. The transition counselor usually shows some sort of video montage and everyone reflects on their thoughts and feelings about sharing time with these students. Today, the video consisted of interviews with each of the girls who was leaving, as well as their friends, and their teachers and counselors. There were kind and reassuring words all around, and while I was touched and proud of all the girls and the relationships they built with staff, I realized I was nowhere in the mix. I had been locked away in meetings and conference calls, and never got to record a message. Not one girl had anything to say about the influence, inspiration, or impact I had on them during their time with us. I was not even on the radar, and it made me a little bit sad.
It might sound like I'm whining a poor me sob story. Please don't misinterpret my feelings about the event as self-pity. What it was for me was a reminder. When I went to school to earn my doctorate, I had no intention whatsoever of becoming a school administrator. I never even filled out an application to enter the administrative pool. I even stayed in my 4th grade classroom teaching position for an additional year after earning my doctorate. The job I have now is a great one, but it wasn't in my plans, it just kind of happened. And now I remember why. I never wanted to feel this far removed from the students. I don't want to be thought of as that lady in the office, or the one who does all the testing, or the one who handles discipline. And now, I am that lady. I'm all of them and then some. And while someone has to do all those things, I wish it didn't have to be me. I want to be the favorite teacher mentioned in the video, or the one who helped make something hard easier to learn for the first time. I want to be the one the girls always knew cared about them. I want to connect with students more.
I'm not necessarily saying I should go back into a K-12 classroom. But I'm not saying I shouldn't. I just need to find a way to really connect with students (of whatever age) the way I have in the past. It's what has made me so passionate about my work and my career.
I just want to love teaching again.
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