Them: So, what is it?
Me: You tell me.
Them {yelling. not just irritated, actually yelling}: But YOU are the teacher! What are you even doing if you won't tell us? We don't know it, how CAN we know it? You're supposed to be HELPING US!
Me: But you do know it. Flip back in your notes.
Half of them pull out their phones, the rest of them scowl at me with their arms folded. A few flip back through their INB's. One girl, Tessa, from the back row offers an answer. It's correct and I say so.
Tessa {smiling just the tiniest bit}: You knew we'd find it, didn't you?
I nod.
Skip ahead to January. Same B4 class. I put a problem on the board, but I don't say a word. A student raises a hand and offers a conjecture. Without any prompting, another raises a hand and disagrees. We go back and forth around the room, me hardly calling on anyone, definitely not saying a word. By the end, there is agreement - and they're right - and they've managed to come to the answer all on their own and convince the dissenters. "you're right, you're right" I hear them say.
Then they look at me. "I just can't help but think how far we've come. Do you remember when you used to yell at me?"
They laugh a little, and Tessa says, "Mrs. Phillips, you're going to cry, aren't you?"
Maybe just a little.
Moments like this are Reason #1 that I won't quit.
But my principal listens to me. She gives me permission to try new things, and affirms what's going well in my room. And downtown listens to her. She's well-respected and rational and really knows how to get things done.
So, while I'm busting my butt to do what I think is right for the kids in my little world, my principal is standing up for all of us in the building, and she's making a difference in a million ways. For the assistant-principals who have my back every single day. And for the young teachers on my hall who turned down others jobs to be in a high-poverty, high-minority setting because they were up for the challenge. And for the students who deserve the best we have to offer.
And as long as she's standing up for us, I'll be showing up for her.
That's Reason #2 that I won't quit.
Ben: What do you want to do?
Me: I want to paint silhouettes of birds on the baseboards in the dining room.
Ben: But you don't paint...
~~~
And he's right. I don't paint. I don't sew. I started scrapbooks for each of the kids out of the belief that that's what good mothers do. But I realized that none of those were my thing.
But then my youngest started kindergarten, and I was blessed by the opportunity to teach at the same school all the kids attended, so I went back into the classroom after 10 years at home (and no thought that I'd ever do anything but stay at home). And I discovered that TEACHING is MY creative outlet.
It's exhilarating when a graph, or a video, prompts a discussion. I love hunting for and thinking up things that will help students make connections. And, thanks to the internet, there's never been a better time to be a connected teacher.
Sometimes I get overwhelmed with full-time teaching and full-time parenting, and I say something like "You know, if I didn't work, the house would be cleaner." But then one of the kids says, "but you wouldn't be happy, so neither would we." And now and then one of them will snuggle in next to me while I'm working and say, "I'm proud of what you do, Mom."
One day, a child had a fever and my husband offered to stay home with him.
Me: But you're the primary bread-winner in this family.
Ben: But your job actually matters.
And that's Reason #3 that I won't quit.