Teaching Is Love

When I first started teaching middle school it was awful. I was awful. I drove home many days crying my eyes out and dreading the next day. It was a tough crowd. I was teaching 8th grade math to students who were struggling in their regular math class so they had to take a second math class. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Who wants to even take one math class let alone two? And for kids who are struggling in math, taking another math class feels like punishment. However, in June, when the year was over, I was eager to give it another try. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. What changed? I started to love them. I started to see them as the beautiful people they were rather than the difficult-to-manage-in-your-face students everyone complained about.

Every year a few students get under my skin. All my usual tricks don't work and I go home wondering what to do. How will I reach her? How will I help him be successful when he won't stop swearing long enough to hear the assignment? I decide to love them. I decide that my job, more than teaching fractions, and slope, and line of best fit, is to love them.

I didn't figure this out myself. Most of what I do is stolen from other teachers I have had the privilege to know. My high school philosophy teacher taught me what it means to be human. My middle school math teacher taught me about kindness. My son's English teacher taught me about how unimportant grades are and how incredibly important love is.

Everyday I learn something from my colleagues, my students, my children, my parents, and my friends. Learning is what I do. Learning is what I love.