So, in the midst of cake tasting, shoe-shopping, jewelry making, invite addressing, registering, and dress drama, I find myself worrying about the technicalities of what I am about to start at the end of August: TEACHING. Oh, I think it's important for me to also mention that I am working at a CLC for two hours every morning with a bunch of young, hyper boys. Why is it important for me to mention this? Well, because these boys are my constant reminder of the fact that I NEED to find space in my brain to devote thought and reflection to my teaching philosophies. I think I just need to break down and allow myself to create hypothetical situations in my mind, and then ponder the responses I would have to those "issues."
In the CLC today, I had to break up two fights (both between brothers who can't figure out that sitting right next to each other and ribbing each other is an ineffective way to demonstrate mature behavior), and I had to get out my "mean" face to make any sort of progress. Now, I'm not saying these incidents caused me tremendous anxiety, but it did cause me to take a mental step back. I had to hang around the classroom for a few minutes after my shift was over, because I just needed to think for a little bit. After just soaking in the silence (it felt sooo good after spending two long hours in craziness), I decided to go downstairs to sit with the boys at lunch. As soon as I walked down the stairs, I was greeted with plenty of smiles and waves, but the one face I really needed a smile from was intentionally (and purposefully) blank. I waved back to the smiling boys, and proceeded to perch myself on a radiator about eight feet away from my sassy friend. I sat there for a few minutes (I'll be honest, I was hoping he would acknowledge me, but I wasn't expecting him to) before I said anything. As I sat there, I felt myself feeling awkward. I felt slightly uncomfortable. I didn't know exactly what to say, and I didn't even try to predict what he would say back. So, I simply said, "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that when we were in the classroom and you were ignoring me and throwing your papers on the floor, I felt kind of sad. I hope I didn't say or do anything to hurt your feelings, so if I did, I would really like you to let me know so that I don't do it again." He didn't look at me at all, and I felt sort of angry. I just wanted to grab his shoulders and force him to look at me. I wanted him to explain to me why he was/is so angry (and he's angry A LOT). Before I could let myself get any more upset, an older boy who was sitting within earshot, but who must have been straining his ears to hear my words, said, "Don't waste your time talking to him like that. He's disrespectful and he's being a total jerk to you on purpose." I was blown away. I wanted to run over and sit next to this boy and tell him that I appreciated his concern for my mental sanity, but I also wanted to assure him that I understand why a young, urban boy would want to be rude to me on purpose. Instead (because I often forget to wait before reacting), I looked at Sassy and said, "If that's true, I'm incredibly flattered. I'm flattered that you think I can handle negative attitudes." I immediately knew that this sounded like a challenge. Without any hesitation, Sassy looked at me and literally hissed, "Get away from me! You don't care about me!" All I could do was smile. I had gotten what I wanted and needed: an admittance of insecurity. Now that it was out in the open, I was free to talk about it. I stood up and allowed myself to speak in my normal volume. "Who are you fooling? I was done working at noon, and I came down here to talk to you. It doesn't bother me if you don't care about me, but I do care about you." Not to make this situation seem more epic than it was (because nothing is eloquent and emotionally beautiful until we've had time to reflect and re-call), I would like to mention that the cafeteria filled with hungry boys did not stop to listen. I didn't leave the school knowing that I had made some terrific impact on Sassy. But, I did leave that cafeteria with the self-assurance that I had not allowed myself to be satisfied with denial.
And now, as I sit here on my blue chair typing this blog, and casually listening to my fiance play drums, I am able to reflect upon my situation with Sassy even further. I think that, overall, the biggest issues I have (and will) run into as a teacher center on self-concept and confidence. If only I knew how to teach these kids that they are amazing storage devices filled with potential. If only I knew how to help them understand that we all (at one time or another) have done and said things that we are not proud of. If only I knew how to reassure them that they will never be entirely satisfied with themselves, and the sooner they stop trying to perfect their "swagger," the sooner their "swagger" becomes admirable.
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