Today is the third day of test week and I am watching my students work and think harder than I have ever seen most of them do in my regular class. I hear the loaded rustling of pages, the scratching of pens on paper, and I am sure I hear their brains whirring. None of them are breaking a sweat, but their brains will sure need a rest after this test. As I sit here at my desk behind the growing pile of test papers, I am overcome by a sudden wave of emotions.
Fellow teachers will recognize that a teacher’s job can be at times fun, exhausting, but that reward is sometimes a few years in the future. It’s fun, because we get to be creative and interact with young minds, and it’s exhausting, because it’s work on a lot of different levels with not always a direct result. The reward comes from seeing progress and growth in the future (thank you social media) and for that you have to be able to view the student as was, as can be and as is. As a teacher I do my best to really ‘see’ each student, to acknowledge their identity and make them feel welcome and valued. And you cannot but be touched along the way.
Fellow teachers might recognize some of these type of students. Maybe, hopefully, some of my former students can recognize themselves here and tell me how they’ve grown.
I see the student who always, diligently, works hard and thorough, stays for questions and participates in class trying so hard to understand the initially confounding poems through the questions I pose in the paper. I also see him succeeding, judging by the excited tapping of his foot and I feel a sense of achievement for him.
I see the insecure student for she is constantly getting bad grades, yet she equally tries hard. She used to give up more easily for lack of self-confidence, but has learned to persevere more and I feel sad that I can’t make her feel better about herself in this subject.
I see the secretly ambitious student who has overcome test anxiety and is now resting his tired hand for all the writing he has done and I feel hopeful of a good grade for him.
I see the forever insecure student for he is told over and over again how lazy he is, with his head on the table. Yet he is the one who consistently connects all the right dots. He can allow himself to be lazy, for a minimal effort on his part still gets him a passing mark. He reminds me of myself to be honest, and I feel like giving him a hug and telling him to trust his instincts. Not that he would listen.
I see the smart, hardworking student confidently scribbling away in that neat and clean handwriting of hers and I feel assured of yet another good grade on her list.
I also see the student who has lost all faith in his abilities and fate, because of the hardship he has had to face in his short little life. He is digging into a difficult question he totally knows the answer to. He’s scratching away at his paper with his pen as fast as it will go, frustrated he can’t write down this answer as fast as it’s formulating in his head. I feel proud of him to have at least this sensation of passion and achievement, even if it’s only for one question.
Then there’s the expat student who revels in her newness and loves to show off the exposure she’s benefitted from in her previous school. I am grateful for her being here to share with the other students what the level can be outside of this tiny community.
I see the student who has fooled himself (and used to fool his teachers) into thinking that he’s working hard, being confronted by deficiencies in his vocabulary and frustrated he can’t express himself clearly on paper and I feel the smallest hint of justification for making sections of this paper hard.
I see the top-of-the-class student who sometimes pretends not to know an answer so as to make himself more likeable to the rest of the class. He needs more of a challenge and is insecure about himself because of how easy everything seems to be for him. He is thinking “This can’t be right, there must be some deeper answer to this question,” that he is overlooking something, that this is too easy. I feel for him, because he is not exposed enough to the optimal learning environment he needs.
I see the student battling health issues and pent-up anger still trying to achieve good grades despite her missing a lot of school and I feel frustrated there’s no way I can help her more with that. She has to work out that for herself.
So there. One class, only ten students, each with his or her own struggles and skills. All of them are unique, all of their personalities have touched me in some way. That’s where to find the reward: knowing that I have impacted them in their young lives. I sure hope to somehow have an impact on their development, their futures and dreams.
I hope they will also go through the emotions they elicit in me. I wish them all the pride, justification, achievement, hope, confidence, affection, sadness, frustration, sympathy and gratitude they make me feel.
Island Stories 