thoughts from cyclone Tracy

I don’t care what you think unless it is about me.

Kurt Cobain

Hands up those in the room who feel responsible for things they’re not responsible for. I’m one of those people that always feels a little on edge when things are going wrong as if, in some weird way, shit’s hit the fan entirely because of me. It’s because of this that I:

• volunteer to take back the books that I did not use
• clean up a mess that I did not make
• offer to take on a task that I don’t really have the time to do
• step on people’s toes when I unwittingly offer to do their jobs for them
• feel really bloody guilty when a student’s assessment task does not reflect what I perceive their ability to be

When I think about this logically, I know I am being narcissistic: to assume that so many of the world’s problems revolve around me quite frankly makes it look like I have tickets on myself. Yet it’s a problem that I find myself coming up against, time and time again. High stress periods are the worst: when everything is heightened and happening very fast, I find myself getting caught up in the whirlwind and very often, I let myself simply be carried away. My feet are starting to feel a little far from the ground (and not in the nice way).

Today I received some of my students’ marks for an assessment they just completed. I looked in dismay at a couple that were a little bit devastating: “Oh no,” I thought, “they’re going to be gutted and maybe there was something else I could have done…” Never mind the fact that a number of the class also did astoundingly well (I’m one of those who would never attribute a student’s success to my own output) instead, I choose to focus on those three to four bloody marks that make me think I’ve failed my kids. It’s important in times like these to take stock of all the things you did do right, all the things that led your most hardworking, committed and those naturally talented kids to their successes.

Here’s all the things I did:

• I made checklists, simplifying the marking criteria so the kids could have a look at their own work and decide whether or not they were happy with their efforts
• I stayed in at break times and offered to assist kids who were feeling a little bit stuck
• I made comments on Google Docs that were shared with me, waded through the clutter of my inbox daily
• I introduced a critiquing system, in the hopes that the kids would become more self-sufficient, but also better team players

and ultimately:

• I turned up and did my job. I did what was expected of me not any more, and certainly not any less.

It’s that last one that is usually the most difficult to remember. There’s always this desire to be able to do more, to be able to make some startling change, to be the kind of teacher they make movies about (seriously, how are there so many teacher movies?)

I love that we celebrate extraordinary teachers like Peter Tabichi and Erin Gruwell in the media but it’s also important (and difficult) to reminder yourself that actually if you get through a lesson where your kids have learnt something new, you’re doing your job right and that too, is worth celebrating. What you don’t really get to see when we’re celebrating these incredible teachers is just how much bloody work it is and how hard it can be to separate work from everything else.

When I was in university, we watched a lot of “inspirational” teacher videos (think “Every Kid Needs a Champion” and this cool little dude) and I loved them, but while Kid President was telling me it was time to “get [my] learn on” he forgot to tell me how hard that was going to be when I was in a classroom with five kids out of their seats, one with their hand up waiting for help, two screaming across the room at each other, all while a quiet group sat at the back hoping that they could fly under the radar.

Somehow, in spite of the cyclone, or maybe because of it* we power through anyway. We do our job and we do it to the best of our abilities and hope to all things good, that our kids do the same in return. With those especially tricky classes, it’s important (for the student and the teacher) to remember that success doesn’t always look like an A. Success is doing your best, in spite of all the obstacles in your path and continuing to get up, no matter how many times you trip over one of them.

The cyclone comes and goes and even though I know it will eventually pass me by, it catches me by surprise every time. I don’t know if I’m writing this to give advice to those who also get caught in the cyclone, or if I’m doing it so that by the time the next one comes around I have a better handle on things. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m trying to tell myself to pull my head out of my own bum and focus on the things that are actually within my control.

Best,

Miss Tracy.

*just kidding, it is definitely in spite of the cyclone