Dear Mrs Z

I just sent this to my friend, Carrie, a first year art teacher in England.   It really captures my thoughts on the year so far…

Hi Carrie,

I think I have mentally composed at least a dozen long letters to you – as I drive to work in the morning anticipating the chaos that will surely ensue, or as I process the day’s events while I lie awake at night. I know you have been with me on this crazy adventure, in spirit, this whole school year. 

Thank you so much for writing a couple months back. Wow, I suck for taking so long to respond. And yet, I know you understand – probably better than anyone!

My year has been more challenging – and more rewarding – than I ever would have dreamed possible. I needed a place to deposit my thoughts, so my friend Dartanyon created a blog for me. The trouble is, I never have time to write. But here it is: www.dearmrsz.com The name comes from an assignment I invented on the fly one day, in desperate need for a substitute plan. I had the kids write letters to me to tell me how their school year was going so far. The result was AMAZING – I got to know each of them on such a deeply personal level, and they developed a sense of trust in me far beyond that which they’ve had with any other teacher. Needless to say, I’ve repeated the exercise a few times. I find that my “Dear Mrs. Z’s” really define what education is all about. 

Here’s another example of my kids’ writing:http://www.timburgess.com/ Check out the March 8th entry.

The challenges:
Turning off my brain and finding balance among family and friends and basically taking care of myself. I swear I only pluck my eyebrows on school breaks, which is DEFINITELY not often enough.
Learning to work with a school discipline system that I do not necessarily agree with… that has proven ineffective… and proving to my administrators that my approach (which celebrates positive behavior rather than punishing bad behavior) ACTUALLY WORKS! 
Learning that my kids suffer from problems far greater than I was prepared to deal with: I have gang members (crips, to be exact), bi-polar kids, kids with manic depression and a host of other psychiatric disorders, kids who have suffered every kind of abuse, foster kids, kids who crossed the border illegally and are now fighting to become citizens, poor kids, hungry kids, kids who live in shelters, kids with parents or siblings in prison… and a TON of kids with IEPs (Special Ed) or minimal English skills. There are so many special needs… so many. I have found that there is simply not enough love to go around and not enough of me to give. And oh! How I want to bring them all home and adopt them.
Realizing that my kids cannot read or write. Period. I have had to scale back my expectations and/or build a LOT of basic writing/spelling/math lessons into my curriculum. I am so surprised by how ill-prepared they are. (I’m sure this is a far cry from what you saw on Mercer Island!)
Learning to let go and NOT have a perfect lesson planned out and ready to go. I am learning to be increasingly flexible and off-the-cuff. 
Learning to let my strict grading criteria go. I started with rubrics. Now I just eyeball. At the heart of it all, I find, it all comes down to relative effort. And I can spot that a mile away.
Realizing that I am a fairly progressive teacher among a fairly traditional set of colleagues. I don’t bat an eye if my kids swear, unless of course it is directly offensive to someone else. They can say “sh*t,” for example, but the minute they call someone a “f*g” we have a chat. I do not hand out Lunch Detentions when they are late. Rather, I welcome them to class and wish them well on getting caught up. I am TRYING to give them a sense of personal responsibility, and I find that they need to first trust me in order for that to happen. The minute I start assigning “meaningless” punishment (as they see it), the minute our relationship starts to break down. These kids need adults in their lives who they can trust. Needless to say, my classroom has become a safe haven for kids who get kicked out of their other classrooms. I ALWAYS have an odd kid or two who do not belong. They just join in my class and learn whatever it is we are learning that day.

The rewards:

REACHING the kids – particularly those who are most at-risk. I successfully coaxed a gang of crips into disbanding… a minor miracle. It is an ongoing challenge to keep them away from gang activity, but they are trying. I am so proud of them. 
Hearing my kids say, “Thank you” and “You’re my favorite teacher” and “You’re going to get teacher of the year!”… or even funnier, “Mrs. Z, when are we going to kick it?”

Laughing my ass off every day at something they have said or done. God, I love my job.

So here it is, Spring Break. I promised myself I would do nothing but lie around the house all week and unplug. It is so hard. My job is so inspiring, and I am ready to plan for these last 11 weeks before summer. It really does feel like a marathon, doesn’t it? And this is like the 17th mile. Our legs are numb with fatigue, but we know that if we just pace ourselves to the finish line, we will make it. My last day is June 19th (thanks to a wicked snow storm in December). When is yours?