For some reason I frequently feel like I’m totally forgettable. People I’ve met several times don’t seem to recall who I am. Have I left no impression at all? Am I invisible? Sometimes I wonder. If I don’t seem to leave much impression in life, how am I to leave any type of legacy after I’m gone?

When it comes to the big picture, we are all just tiny blips on the radar screen of time. We are born, we live, we die. Most of us leave behind loved ones who will mourn and remember us, but over time they too will expire and along with them, the memory of us will die. It’s as though our lives are a flame, warm and bright but fleeting. Some of us are like tiny birthday candles, snuffed out quickly and soon forgotten. Others are a bonfire, or even a forest fire. Some lives reach millions, for better or worse, others hardly reach beyond their own front doors.

Of course I want my family to remember me with love and tenderness, and I’m sure they will, at least for a little while. I do wonder what will become of me and my memory after I’m gone, but deep down I think I know. I came from nowhere, and I will return there. I was adopted at birth, never allowed to know anything about the circumstances of my origin. I simply appeared. I believe that after I’m gone a while, I will simply disappear, forgotten from the family history, possibly relegated to a footnote, or an asterisk on a distant relative’s family tree. I was a give away for one family and an add-on for another, and as such, perhaps easily dismissed by both.

Outside of my family, I hope to leave a larger legacy. I hope that somewhere out in the world at least a few of my students look back fondly on their experiences in my classroom. I hope they remember that I taught them something, or tried to make some lesson memorable, or even that I was goofy and silly in class. I hope that at least one person took away something positive from their time under my care. Sadly, I feel like the odds are against me on this point too. People grow up and move on. Rarely do they remember their fourth or second grade teacher making a mark on their lives. It seems the only time they do recall these people, they do so in horror.

Maybe this is part of the reason I write and quilt and scrapbook. These are all ways for me to say, “I was here.” I may just be one of those little blips existing in a tiny space in the universe until my own flame is snuffed out, but my life is important. I live and love and dream. I can and will leave my mark on the world, and I will do my best to leave it better than it was when I arrived.

September 27, 2013
by BulgingButtons Leave a comment

Daily Passion Prompt 21: I’m Only the Teacher, You’re the Parent

Day #21
What pisses you off more than anything else?

I am a teacher. I teach. I plan, organize, assess, evaluate, modify, reevaluate, reassess, research, deliver, monitor, manage, entertain, and enlighten. I also pass out band-aids, tease out smiles, determine whether restroom requests truly are “urgent,” manage materials, distribute papers, correct assignments, enter grades, create report cards, make phone calls home, arrange and conduct parent-teacher conferences, motivate reluctant learners, create bulletin boards, manage schedules, run an after school club, supervise the playground, gather lunch money, arrange book orders, update a classroom website, mediate disputes, supervise clean up, monitor supply levels, analyze data, create multimedia presentations, gather appropriate online resources, evaluate potential special needs, adapt curriculum, differentiate instruction, and about a thousand other things. I care about my students and I care about my school community. I am fully involved in the goings on of my students. But here’s the thing: there are 31 of them, and one of me.

Now on to the part that irritates me, and trust me, it’s not the kids. What pisses me off more than anything is people who have a strong sense of entitlement. There, I said it. That, in general, is enough to get my goat, but when it applies to the school setting, it makes me crazy. Parents, please be aware that I am just as fond of little Eustace as I am of any other child I have taught in my career. Ok, maybe that’s not entirely true, but odds are he’s not my least favorite student of all time, and really, it doesn’t matter anyway, because in my classroom he’s going to get a fair shake no matter what.

Please don’t ask me to make him extra homework packets because you threw his out. Please don’t ask me to tutor him after school because you’re too busy to sit with him and help him learn his math facts. Please don’t tell me about how you’re going to make sure he does his homework, then the following day make excuses for him. He needs you a lot more than he needs me. Parents, please, I am doing the best I can. A five minute phone call isn’t a big deal, but several of them each day becomes extremely time consuming.

I’m not unwilling to work with you. I WANT to work with you. But please, be willing to do your part too. Get little Eustace to school on time each day, check over his work each evening, and look through his backpack. Talk to him about school, and life, and be there for him. He needs you. He really really does.

September 21, 2013
by BulgingButtons 23 Comments

Daily Prompt: We Can Be Taught!

What makes a teacher great? Being a teacher, I have some pretty strong opinions on the topic. I think back to my own school days, as everyone does, and pick out those teachers who stand out. Why were they the best?

In elementary school, it was my sixth grade teacher who made the greatest impact on me. He was funny, knowledgeable, and compassionate. Learning in his classroom was fun, but the standards were high. He made it clear that we would be well prepared for Junior High by the time he was done with us, and we were. He also had a more playful side, and on blustery days when there was no outdoor recess, he played endless hands of blackjack with his eleven year old charges.

Later on, I had Dr. T. He also had high standards. Really high. He, too, knew his field inside and out. He pushed us to think beyond our own teenage existence and orchestrated opportunities for us to connect with Hester Prynne, Lady Macbeth, and the Joads. He took us to the university library and taught us how to find reference materials (pre-computer era) and write research papers. He was a stickler for details, and he taught me to be a critical reader and ruthless editor. Sometimes I wished he wasn’t so demanding, but when I arrived at college, it all became clear. He saved me. As a result of his demands, I could write.

As an educator myself, I have some thoughts of what makes a teacher great. First, are their students engaged with the topic? This sounds easy, but when you have to teach a particular curriculum, which you may or may not be excited about yourself, it can sometimes be a challenge. Not every student is going to be thrilled to learn the quadratic equation, just as not every student will find joy in poetry. Your job as an educator is to sell it, and it can be a tough sell. Knowledge of technology can help a lot, as can having an open mind when it comes to learning new teaching techniques and trends.

A second hallmark of great teachers is that they entertain. Kids are media savvy, and many have short attention spans. When I was a kid, a filmstrip was a thrill. Those days are gone, which is why I believe that great teachers are also entertainers. Infusing lessons with great stories, a little drama, the occasional joke, and a spirit of fun can go a long way toward student learning. If I’m being entertained, I don’t mind going along for the ride, even if I didn’t sign up to be there in the first place. Think back to Schoolhouse Rock. My generation could sing the preamble to the Constitution, explain the function of a conjunction, and tell you the types of adverbs all because a little learning was squeezed into our Saturday morning cartoon lineup. Genius.

Finally, great teachers know their stuff and know their students. I have to understand my content inside and out, and I have to develop multiple ways of sharing it with my students. I’m always assessing what they understand and what they still need. I’m watching them, reading their work, listening to their conversations, and thinking about the next step. I gather resources, put them together into learning experiences, and evaluate how effective they were. I reassess and determine where to go from there. You really can’t get that out of a teacher’s guide.

Great teachers are a little different than the rest of the world. They may not have the prettiest classrooms, and other teachers may not always understand exactly what they’re doing, but their students love to learn, and ultimately that is what it’s all about.