Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my first day of teaching. On January 18, 2011, I became the first grade teacher in a tiny school on the prairie of North Dakota. If you Google Earth our location, you would just need to type the words “middle of nowhere” and our town would pop right up.
I’ll retrace my steps of yesterday morning so that you can celebrate properly with me.
“I stepped across the threshold and stood for a moment in the semi-darkness before switching on the overhead lights. The blue glow from the gel-filled ant farm was the only illumination in the room. Seven a.m. means it is still dark outside mid-January in central North Dakota.
My hand lingered on the switch for just a moment as the memory of a year ago tapped a gentle finger on my shoulder. January 18, 2011 I had stood on this very spot, switched on the lights just as I was doing now, looked around the room before moving from my spot, and I had grinned. I smiled because this was my room, my vision come to life with its paper tree in the corner and blue sky with puffy clouds. My room, and my dream. I had patiently waited years, entered the university world as a middle-aged woman, studied my brains out for two years, been hired before I even had a diploma in hand, and now….
Now is was time to bear the fruit of all of that turmoil, stress, and dreaming. I was a licensed teacher in the great state of North Dakota.
I took just a moment to let it all sink in and to savor that irreplaceable moment.”
That’s what I had intended to write – something gauzy and sappy and sentimental.
Here’s how it really went down…
Husband is out of town for a few days. Leaves the Volkswagon Jetta with me and takes the van. The Jetta only drinks diesel fuel (God bless the Germans). Yesterday morning it was like, 500 degrees below zero. Diesel fuel and subzero temperatures are mortal enemies (you remember poor Laura and her fatal star!) Husband says to me via cell phone conversation, “better plug the thing in once you get to school.” I left later than I wanted to, had to track down poor Harry the Custodian and played the damsel in distress card so that he would help me locate an extension cord and an outside outlet (God bless Harry).
It was supposed to be science experiment day (growing crystals on pipe cleaner “snowflakes”), so the sheer volume of stuff I lugged from home was of U-Haul proportions. It took a few trips getting everything into the classroom. I had no sooner unpacked it all when suddenly it was time for our “team” meeting. Which team that is, I am not sure.
I knew once the meeting was over, the kids would have arrived and time to get prepared for the day would be over. A quick look around the room, a quick spritz of water in the Walking Stick tank for thirsty insects, a gulp of coffee, and I ascend from my dungeon to the history room where my “teammates” are assembling. A typical morning. There was no time for reflective reverie. Reverie is for the Rocking Chair Years, I guess.
But it was a good day, this, my anniversary day. The Darlings were happy, content, and back to their compliant selves. Peace and order ruled supreme. I got the giggles when we worked on making sequential order paper snowmen. As they glued their snowmen onto construction paper and added detail, I realized they had all added a picture of me to their scenery in one spot or another. Mrs. Dahl standing on the brim of a giant snowman. Mrs. Dahl hiding in a snow fort. Mrs. Dahl coming down from the sky clinging to a giant snowflake. I was like the Where’s Waldo of first grade art.
My Crown Jewel moment came mid-morning when we traipsed upstairs to the computer lab for MAP testing. I had dreaded this day. There is SO MUCH pressure for the kids to perform on high stakes testing. I hate to talk shop here, but if you are not a teacher, I doubt you can fully understand this paragraph. Tests scores translate to dollars. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. You are measured as a teacher by how well or how poorly your students perform on standardized tests. Is a child is having an off-day? Does not matter. Child is sick? Oh well. Child didn’t get enough sleep or a decent breakfast? Too bad. Child just really doesn’t care? Tough Twinkies. The test score stands as the arbiter of all pertinent information and knowledge. Report cards are of far less importance.
I prepared them as best I could for the ordeal. I sent a note home the day before. I talked to the kids about giving it their very best effort. And then I fasted for 40 days (OKAY! A slight exaggeration), and prayed like mad.
As the scores rolled off the printer, I held my breath. Then I had to resist the urge to shout and possibly do a Happy Dance. They performed like little rock stars. Every score was up from the fall. Everyone had gained in huge leaps. The numbers were good, the gains impressive. Truthfully, in the entire year I have been teaching, it was the first moment I felt validated as a teacher. Creativity and good intentions in the classroom are fun and certainly aid in learning…. but is it enough? That has been the taunting question that has clawed at my middle-aged, quasi hippie brain. We have fun, sure. But are they LEARNING? Next week we take the reading portion of the test. More fasting and praying ahead, but I feel a bit more confident than I had. I feel like maybe I am earning my pay after all.
Now comes the reflective part. (This might be a nice time for you to exit quietly)…
Truthfully, the last year has been everything I thought it would be, and it has been nothing like I thought it would be.
I knew it would be hard and exhausting. I knew that I would be pouring my precious free time into this gig for a lengthy stretch of time. I knew that I didn’t know what I was doing (and I didn’t). The theory of the university classroom and the practical application in a living laboratory are miles apart. Some things you can only learn by diving into the trenches and doggedly doing. Student teaching is helpful but it is far different from the reality of being in charge of your own classroom.
As I allowed the feet of my memory to wander down that lane, I knew with certainty that I had come far in my teaching proficiency. I have learned more in my on-the-job training than I did in all the coursework and required practicum hours in someone elses classroom.
I also know that I have not begun to scratch the surface of what I will and should know as a proficient teacher. As I observe other teachers and listen to their conversations, it seems that there are parts of teaching that just become instinctual over time. I am not there yet. I am still too busy becoming comfortable with my curriculum, trying to get my students wherever it is they are supposed to be, getting the hang of managing my time wisely so that I do not have hours of correcting and next-day preparation every night. The honest truth is teaching is harder than it looks. Teaching is hard work, requires many (MANY) hours outside of the classroom, does not provide for a lavish lifestyle, and has the potential for public criticism. I have to wonder why anyone would pursue teaching as a career.
Here’s why I did…
I love children.
I love pouring knowledge into their thirsty, inquisitive, curious brains.
I love children.
So that’s it. I am closing the book on Chapter One and preparing for the rest of the story. I have worked myself out a blog title. The runner-up title was, “Middle-Aged, Quasi-Hippie Teacher Ditches Rookie Title.” I have to tell ‘ya, it feels really good to be at this point. My head doesn’t feel like it’s on a perpetual Puke Machine ride (famous playground merry-go-round at our school. It has emptied the contents of many a stomach). I am getting the hang of the perfect balancing act that is required to do this job well. I can feel that confidence growing daily.
So here is the Reader’s Digest version of how I see my teaching future:
My goals: Make learning so interesting and even addicting that my students become life long learners.
My fears: That I will grow complacent and stale in my instructional style.
My rewards: Watching the joy of understanding cross a child’s dear face.
My trade-offs: Meetings, committees, short nights, long days and never being able to truly “turn it off.”
I stand back at this moment and give that first day, first year teacher a critical eye. Was she really prepared to teach? I guess she was as prepared as could have been at that time. She didn’t know a few things about teaching and made a few errors while shooting through the learning curve rapids. I know of no way that can be avoided, really. It is sort of like being handed your first baby as new parents and thinking you know all there is to know about raising teenagers. It is on-the-job training, theory means squat.
Now that I’m an “experienced” second-year teacher (which means I didn’t lose my report cards last quarter), there are a few things I would like to say to that other me, the newbie. (This is quickly degenerating into a Back To The Future sequel). Regardless, here goes:
1. Let go of the drive to attain perfection each and every day of instruction.
2. Pretend that you like meetings. No, really. Meetings are a part of the job, period. Get used to it. My superintendent once noticed that I did not look happy in a meeting and mentioned it. People are observing attitude at all times.
3. Learn the strengths and weaknesses of each child. Tailor instruction for them considering these things. I have a couple of kids who are nuts over dinosaurs – Dino Month thematic unit is coming in February. I know I will have their full attention.
4. Take pictures often. Parents love to see them and it makes for a fabulous documentary of the growth of the community children. I always add color pictures to my Friday letters so ensure that my parents read the news for that week. Who doesn’t like to see their own child in pictures?
5. You can never communicate with parents too much. This is an area I intend to get better at.
6. Do something every day to make that particular day interesting for the kids. Does it take planning? Yes. Does it take extra time? Yes. So worth it.
7. Be careful what you say about coworkers and whom you say it to. Remember that you work in a community within a community.
8. You can never have too many pencils, erasers, tissues, disinfecting wipes, or extra clothes on hand. First graders are messy. There is just no nice way to say it.
9. Buy Zycam cold fighting medicine by the case. You’re gonna’ need it. If getting sneezed on is a problem for you, you’re probably in the wrong profession.
10. Don’t forget that you have a family who needs you at home once in a while. Dedication to the day job won’t score points with those you love best. Never stop trying to find that balance you so desperately desire.
So that’s it for this diary. I have worked myself out of a title. I can no longer pen my thoughts under the banner, “Diary of a First Year Teacher.”
Now what?
Honestly, I do not know. A few days to simmer on the stove is called for, I think. If I do continue to write, it will be under a new title. Stay tuned and check back every once in awhile. You may find me back and yucking it up in a few days or weeks.
There are a few people in my orbit that I would like to mention before I seal the canning jar of First Year memories.
A huge thank you to my school, its administrators, and the dedicated school board members for entrusting its first grade students to an inexperienced, middle-aged, quasi-hippie new teacher.
I owe my students and their parents a huge debt of gratitude. They have been warmly accepting, unfailingly forgiving, and lovely to work with on every level. I told my students today that I write about them and that thousands of people from all over the world read about them. Their little jaws fell open. “They read about US?” I smiled at their joy. “Yes, and they love you almost as much as I do.”
I need to thank you, The Reader, as well. Truly, I never dreamed at the outset that anyone besides my husband would have any interest in the minutia of my days or the thoughts in my head. Your praise has been humbling, your encouragement warming.
Thank you for walking beside me as I stepped onto this well-worn path of teaching. I was nervous and insecure at times, but having you as company has buoyed my spirits on more than one occasion. I have felt your love and heard your happy cheers. You are rooting for me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I am blessed…
Dear Diary,
Today ended my first year of teaching. I am no longer the freshman, the rookie, the newbie. I have one year under my belt and many more ahead of me, I trust. I can say with the utmost confidence that I chose the perfect profession for me. I AM a teacher, right down to my middle-aged bones. I loved my years at home with my children, and am equally as happy and excited to embark on this new, thrilling adventure. Life is good and always full of happy surprises. I am thankful for the opportunity to be a presence in the lives of the dear children of this community.
Until Next Time,
Vonda Dahl
First Grade Teacher
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