The Heart of a Teacher

So, last time I posted, I shared some stories with you about funny happenings in my classroom.

Today's stories aren't quite as funny, but they are infinitely more meaningful.  They, to me, truly paint a picture of the heart of a teacher.  Teaching requires the wearing of many hats--you aren't just the students' instructor.  Sometimes you are a parent, a mentor, a counselor, or a cheerleader.  I've only been teaching now for a few years, and I can't count how many different hats I've had to wear.

I'm one of those teachers that always, always, ALWAYS wants to find a way to reach that "unreachable" student.  It's my goal that by the time a student leaves my room, they know without a doubt that I care about them.

This year, I have two students that have recently really caught my attention as needing love.  They need to be "reached" on a level that they don't seem to get outside of school.  For anonymity's sake, we won't call these two students by their names.  Let me introduce you to them, though.

The first of these two students is a sweet young lady who obviously doesn't get a whole lot of positive attention at home.  I can tell this by the choices she makes--she usually will do things to receive negative attention before she tries to earn positive attention.  She would choose it over not being noticed.

Well, I've gotten a lot of great tips from her teacher last year on how to approach her.  I tried to be patient and found myself quickly getting frustrated at first.  Then one day, I took a moment to speak to her alone while we were outside, and here's how that conversation went:

"Want to know a secret?"
- (Confused, slightly intrigued look.)
"Before I knew your face...before I had even laid eyes on you...I loved you."
- (Silent surprise.)
-"Yep.  I thought to myself, 'I'm gonna love on that girl so hard she won't even know what to do with herself.'"
- (Beginnings of a smile.)
-"So look.  I love you.  Even when you mess up, I still love you.  I don't love your choices, but I love you, and that's not going to change, okay?"
-"Okay." (Still smiling!)
-"And the reason you keep having consequences like this for those choices is because I know what you CAN do, and I love you too much to let you make those poor choices.  You're smarter than that!  Do you think you could try to make some smarter choices from now on?"
-"Okay." (STILL smiling!)

Now, our conversation may have been a little longer and a little more detailed, but that sums up the gist of it at least.  For the rest of that day, she was an angel.  She volunteered to help me with just about anything, and it was a welcome change.  Since then, I have ended every day by telling her I love her, just to make sure she doesn't forget it.

Yesterday was the first time she said, "I love you, too."

My heart just about melted, guys.  For serious.   It's about baby steps with this one, and we've taken quite a few over the past few days.

Student number two is a kind of quiet kid.  He's not a very big guy, so he's easy to overlook.  That is, he would be easy to overlook if he wasn't constantly getting into trouble for not paying attention.  If there is trouble to be started, this one is often the one to get it going.  I've been kind of suppressing my growing frustration with him, because deep down, I know that he needs to be reached.  I need to find a way to get to him and have him know that I care.  Because as the old adage says, "They won't care what you know until they know that you care."

So today, on the way out to recess, we had a chat.  I crouched down to speak to him at his level, because this move alone can make kids more relaxed and open to discussion.  And I started the conversation this way:

-"I bet people underestimate you a lot.  Do you know what that means?"
- (Sort of nodding, but mostly because he's not listening and thinks this is the desired response.)
-"It means that people probably look at you, see that you're a little guy, and think you can't do a whole lot.  Does that happen to you very often?"
- (Making eye contact now, he nods.) "Yeah, that makes me mad."
-"I bet.  But guess, what?  I know differently.  You are a smart guy.  I've seen you do math, and you're great.  And you know what else?  You're a lot smarter at reading than you know.  I wish you'd give me a little more effort so that your work can show what you know."
- (Listening, which is kind of a big deal.)
-"Look.  You are smart.  Do people tell you that very often?"
- (Shakes head no.  My heart literally breaks in two.)
-"Well, I'm saying it now.  So hear it.  You.  Are.  Smart.  I would love for your choices to start reflecting that."
- (Nods head in agreement.)
-"So tomorrow, let's start working to make smart choices, okay?"
-"Okay."

I'm not sure that I've totally gotten through to him, but I know he needed to hear what I had to say.  I'm hoping that with a few more pep talks, he'll start wanting to give more effort at school.

I've said all of that to say this: the heart of a teacher must be many things.  It must be bigger than you can fathom, stronger than the hardest steel, and yet soft enough to empathize with students who come from all walks of life.  The heart of a teacher is gentle, but firm.  It's tender, but tough when necessary.

Teaching is hard stuff.

I love my job, and I look forward to being able to share stories about these two kids as they progress over the rest of the year.  Here's to many many more baby steps in the right direction!

I'll post again soon.  Until then,

♥ Marlee

PS - One of my students spontaneously came up to me in class today and said, "Ms. Bourey, I love you!"  This is why I do my job.  (For serious.)