1st Year Down!

Welp, I made it. It has been one year since I accepted the position as a middle school ELA teacher (English Language Arts for those of you who have been wondering what mysterious subject I’m teaching). Heading back into the classroom was something I had never planned to do. In fact, for years I had been loudly proclaiming that I was NEVER going to go back into the classroom. Yeah. Joke’s on me.

Over the course of the past year, several people have asked how long I’ve been teaching. It’s a hard question for me to answer. Are they talking about in the public school? Then this was my second year. Are they asking about how many years in a classroom? Then this was my ninth year. Are they willing to include homeschooling? Then I just finished my 22nd year. Questions about my life are never simple answers.

This year was full of joys and struggles, as most jobs are. I absolutely love teaching, so getting up and exuding confidence in what I’m doing was fun and easy. Since this was a first for me to formally teach ELA, there were times my confidence wavered. I mean really, who really knows what all the verb tenses are and how to explain them to middle schoolers who struggle to start sentences with capital letters?

The thing that I struggle with the most, though, was the memory of my one and only year teaching right after graduating college. I had exactly one job interview, from which I accepted the position as a middle school teacher in Gillette, WY. Completely forgetting the fact that I’d never been away from home, that there are 4 states and 1,230 miles between them, I was excited to start my teaching career. Until loneliness set in. And then two students decided to use me as their emotional punching bag. Despite going to admin. about the students’ harassment, nothing was done to stop the behavior. I felt isolated by my colleagues, and I was left to figure out the classroom gig pretty much on my own. Thus, it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone when I moved back to Indiana in May.

Fast forward *ahem* years to when I walked through the doors of GCMS last fall. I knew everything was different - I am older, I have more confidence in myself and my teaching, my “grown-up” home is only 10 minutes away, the admin. is different, and I have different co-workers. Despite knowing all of this, there were times that the same old fears and insecurities resurfaced.

I was leery of going to my principals with problems because I wasn’t certain I could trust them. Communicating with parents was a hurdle to overcome, as I expected each of them to blame me for any difficult situation with their child. Being honest with my pod teachers was at times a struggle as I wondered if they would support me or just judge me. Even building trusting relationships with the students put me on guard, since I wasn’t sure who would target me like those girls did so long ago.

Over and over I had to remind myself that what I was feeling was legitimate. I didn’t like the emotions. I wished they would go away and let me simply enjoy my year. But, from time to time the doubts and concerns would pop back up and make me question myself and others all over again.

That’s the problem with grief - it will insist on showing itself even after we think we have worked through it and moved on. It will insist that we look at it through a different lens, a different angle and work through what has been revealed to us.

Yet, here we are! I made it through year 2/9/22. Was it all rainbows and unicorns? Come on, you know that answer. I was in middle school! It was really more of stinky pre-teens and drama. But, I was consistently met with grace from my colleagues, principals, and even students. Yes, I was held accountable for my mistakes. Yes, there were students who challenged my patience and boundaries.

Through it all, my teacher friends continually showed up. When I was honest and open with them, they listened and did what they could to help. And in the course of ten months, I could feel parts of my past pain and hurt continue being healed.

So, here I am - one year down and the second on its way. The new year promises lots of new adventures. The most exciting of which is that, for the first time since I graduated from Indiana State University with a teaching degree in U.S. History, I will be teaching it! To say that I am over the moon excited is as much an understatement as saying I’m just ok happy my kiddos being home for the summer. I can finally take all of my nerdery about the colonies through Reconstruction and inflict it on someone other than my children. I CAN’T WAIT!!!
Those students don’t really know what they’re in for.

The room where all of the U.S. History magic is going to happen next year!

The saying that “Everything happens for a reason” is a load of crock. (We can talk more about why later) I do not believe that God caused everything that has happened so I can be where I am today. What I do believe is that God can redeem whatever we go through, bringing hope and healing. We are led to see a future even when we struggle to believe there is one. Today, I am grateful that God is redeeming my 22-year old’s experiences in a way I never saw coming.

Wherever you are, whatever you are living through and working through, know that God is at work in ways we cannot fathom. Your “first year” may surprise you as well.

Peace,
Denise