Letters. Check. Math. Check. Reading. Check. Science. Check. History. Check. I feel proficient in all of the content areas, that I am not even teaching right now. But why am I SO exhausted by the current teaching taking place in my class when I haven’t even started any content? 

Right now, it’s social-emotional 101 with Miss Sarah. “Wait your turn.” “Let your friend go first.” “Not yet.” “We will do that tomorrow.”

Patience. 

The funny thing about teaching students these social- emotional skills is the fact that as a 22 year old adult, I question if I have even ever learned them or even if we ever do.  I mean, on a small daily scale, I am more than capable of waiting my turn and abiding by the social constructs of the world, but patience is in fact a skill that I am continually working on in a multitude of aspects of my life.  

My mother sent me a letter a week about with a copy of for pages from a book of wisdom about that very skill, with various underlined sections “subtly” hinting at a suggested reflection of my own.  I can admit that I can be undoubtedly hard on myself.  I want to be the perfect teacher for my students.  The one that walks in and does everything right and makes it look seemingly effortless.  And when my well orchestrated classroom, looks more like chaos between the crying, the constant redirection, the ditched lesson plans for impromptu dance sessions, I in turn feel a wreck.  There are many times a day that I feel like I have no control over my class.  But the scarier realization is when I feel as if I have no control over my life.  That I live in chaos with no constant forces.  New job. New city. New friends. New life. How do you make those “news” all work at once? And what do you do when you don’t feel you are being unsuccessful on all accounts? That the dreams you have for your students and most importantly yourself aren’t coming into immediate apparition? 

You wait.

On the first page is the inscription “Looking at the small advantages prevents great affairs from being accomplished.”  

Strange how we hinder our own greatness in the practice of impatience. And yet, when my students ruin their own chance for success by attempting to swing across the monkey bars before they learn to hold their own body weight up, we know they will fall.  We know they will learn. It just takes time and vision and one day they WILL have success.   

Great affairs will be accomplished in my classroom. We are 5 days in.  We will transform. We will get it right. It will take time. More importantly “great affairs” will take place in my life. I struggle daily to change education and the structures that currently exist that allow for my students to fail. But I need to remember that I won’t get this done today. Not even tomorrow. I am struggling with my changing class schedule.  I am struggling with working in a team.  I am struggling with the demands of TFA.  I am struggling with the demands of Head Start and my position. Right now, I am struggling to make it through the day.  Great affairs are those created under the guidance of time.  I will continue to have a vision for change but realize that time will be my patient partner.  I need to stop evaluating myself on a basis of immediate indicators.  I don’t have my life figured out and I need to stop feeling like I am failing if I don’t have it all together in all areas of my life.  I need to remember to have faith in the bigger picture and in the power of time.  Some people turn to a God as that orchestrator of the bigger picture.  While I struggle with the identity of such a force, I prefer the idea of an infinite love, our own malleable source of expansion, current reality, and return.  That love is the constant in our lives, a deeper source of connection, when the chaos impedes.  Therefore we have no reason to fear, when this greater picture always exists/ed.

It reminds me of my students actually.  Like myself, they are making a huge life transition.  While I picked up and moved my life to a new place, leaving the ones I loved behind, they too are entering a new stage of their lives- leaving their parents for the first time.  They fear their parents leaving them, alone in a classroom surrounded by strangers. The parents are hesitant to leave their crying child, so innocent, facing the world independent of their previously constant guiding hand. However, they are not alone. I am their teacher and I stand there knowing they will make it.  They will have success.  I am there to teach them lessons, brace their tumbles, give them restrictions they don’t yet understand they need and love them.  I am their teacher and they will be successful. It just takes time.  I need to trust that the same care exists for me on a greater level and that with the practice of patience, I will also experience success.  Maybe instead I can call this “infinite knowing power,” my teacher.  The title seems more suiting to me. 

I think it went well. I was officially the first experience with school for about half of my students.  Pressure much? 

On my drive home, I was thinking about how intimidating the first day of school is.  For students and teachers alike.  I feel like I have now accomplished my first- first day of school as a teacher just as my students have accomplished their first-first day of school as a student.  Day of firsts!  Were there tears? yes. Were there struggles? yes.  Were there accidents? yes.  Did we survive? FUCK YES! And we will do it again.  

I keep it positive. I always do.  It’s who I am. Ask my friends and family.  I was thinking about the power of surrounding yourself with positive people. In the hardest transition of my life, and most likely ever in my life, I need it.  My mom says we ask for the people we need in our lives, even if we don’t realize it.  Positive people gravitate together.  I can be down.  I hide it a lot.  It is easier to be bitchy or look at how hard your life seems to be.  But seriously, everyone’s life is hard.  Tell it the immigrant family who picks up there child from my class every day in a country that is telling them they don’t even want you here.  Tell it to Joe’s 17 year old student, who has to take care of her four year old daughter along with pass his math class to graduate.  Life is hard.  

Instead of bitching about it, we have to lift each other up.  I feel so blessed to have created bonds with people here in Phoenix who are going to be there to get me pumped for class and remind me why I teach.  Hell, I have always had people like that in my life. I have felt so much support and love today. From my family and friends.  I will keep you all close and remember to live in gratitude of that love and support.  

I received a gratitude journal when I graduated from college, in which to write what I am grateful for.  It is my daily reflection on the abundance that is in my life when I take the time to look.  

In this journal was the inscription “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners that make our souls blossom.”  This same inscription was the inspiration for my parent board in my classroom.  It is that sentiment that I wish for my classroom.  I want to facilitate the culture of love, compassion and gratitude for everyday we spend together. Big goal. 

I am grateful for my students. I am grateful for Emily and Kelsey.  I am grateful for my parents. I am grateful for my brother. I am grateful for my nightly pump ups with the AZ trio.  I am grateful for the massive team Sarah out there.  I am grateful for another day in the classroom. Let’s do it again!

and he is a three year old boy.  Today was one of those days that changes your life.  I will look back on today and pinpoint the day Arizona made sense.  Why I was here.  

The past weekend I hit a low.  I hate Arizona.  Strip malls, churches and apartment complexes.  In between monsoons and the heat, I was lost as to why I up and moved my whole life to this god-forsaken place. After two months of TFA, my body and mind are tired.  I think I have a right.  I haven’t had a break since moving into my position as Site Supervisor at Head Start.  My job is more than overwhelming and I am still at a loss for why they chose me to fill that position.  They have never in the history of this county ever given a first year teacher this position.  Why me? And why did they think I was qualified.  I knew my co-teacher didn’t. My aide even admitted it seemed weird. I felt like I had to do a million things that nobody ever showed me how to do.  I felt like a social worker, but I never majored in that.  I never wanted to be that.  I want to teach.  How do you teach a child that turned three years old yesterday? I felt little ownership over my own class.  How do you share a class with two other teachers? I was frustrated.  I was sickened with missing Portland, my friends, my life there.  I haven’t felt stable in any aspect of my life since April and basically, I feel a little burnt out. I felt like I was failing in every aspect of my life. I spent the majority of the weekend in bed feeling miserable.  It was a low and everyone could tell.  I knew it would get better but I knew it wasn’t going to be soon…

I was on my fifth home visit today and pulled into a grungy trailer park.  I stood on the broken step, as I knocked on the door of the one bedroom trailer and I was greeted by four rambunctious children.  I entered and sat down at the kitchen table to review the paperwork with the mother.  As she starts to fill out the paper, I scan the room and smile at the kids.  It’s a good thing I have an “expressive” face, because my English doesn’t do me any good as a means for communication in this house.  I find out the oldest was a six year old girl.  She helped her three year old brother color a picture to go up in the classroom for the first day.  I observe her mother fill out the form. No father- incarcerated. I note on my paperwork to follow up on custody papers. I wonder how she makes it, with four children and no father.  I look around the house, as the two others slap each other and run through the house.  My eyes wander back to the paper, as she fills out her birthdate.  1988.  My age.  My heart skips a beat.  My age. Four children, welfare, living in a trailer, no male assistance and 22.  This is what TFA means when it says suspend judgement.  I carry on a conversation with her.  She is a very sweet girl and for a second I imagine her as one of my college friends.  Then I remember her life is so different than mine.  Before I leave her youngest boy runs up to her and whispers in Spanish, I love you mama.  Even with my non-existent spanish, I recognize those words.  She is a good mother.  She is doing the best she can. And poverty exists in the United States. And now it is real for me, because it is real for her and it is real for my student. 

FACT: I don’t love Arizona. I will return to the California or Oregon AS SOON as my two years are done, but today I realized what these two years will mean for me.  I knew this would be difficult and I know I want to make a difference.  This is where it starts for me.  Maybe I can’t change the world, but the world can change me.  I know my experiences with these three and four year olds will change who I am as a teacher for the rest career.  More importantly, I know that my interaction with these families over the next two years will change me for the rest of my life. 

Cute!  What a year it’s been.  Loved sharing it with all of you! :)