Teaching as struggle

Each period, each day I feel like I am locked in a fast-paced wrestling match with my students. I like them, and we chat amiably before and after class, but when the bell rings we all spring into action. I grab onto them and try mightily to push them into a learning place; they resist and try to escape into their own world of disorder and play. We race around the room, wrestling back and forth, up and down. I prevail briefly as they write an assignment or listen to my directions, but then they come charging back, raucous and impudent. I don’t give up--I hurl threats and rewards at them, ominous intimations of inchoate disaster, until they fall back, feigning retreat, only to slip around a corner and run off in a different direction.

Periodically we both take a momentary respite to catch our breaths. During these moments we laugh good-naturedly, as if at our shared situation, but then the contest resumes with renewed vigor. And so it goes for an hour, or an hour and 45 minutes in the block period, until the bell rings and I let them leave. Then it feels like I have passed into the eye of a hurricane--where there was fury and tumult there is now an uneasy calm.

But my next opponents are already gathering outside my door, lining up as is our custom at YOKA. Again I go outside and chat amiably with them before ushering them into the room. Then...the match is on again!

I was thinking of my job in these terms the other day. It had been a reasonably successful day. I got through my lesson, but only by wrestling them inch by inch towards the learning goal. So of course I’m exhausted, but then I realized that anything this difficult and challenging--and worthwhile--will exhaust a person. Some people thrive on intense, grueling contests that leave them exhausted--in play and work--and I guess I’m one of them! 

This job is so much harder than my previous couple of positions, but I’m exhilarated by it even as it exhausts me. I get better at it day by day, albeit with setbacks from time to time, but I should not be deluded into thinking that it will ever be “easy” because it really can’t be any other way if you think about it. After all, our job it to take children--with all their love of chaotic free play who at 12 are on the verge of that rebellion against authority that will eventually make them into independent adults--and make them write and read and follow directions and sit still and be quiet.

How could it possibly be easy to bend their will to mine--especially when they outnumber me 30-1? To be sure, about a third of the students are very cooperative and easy to manage. This doesn’t mean they’re learning what I want them too, but it means I can work with them to help them learn. If they made up the whole class, teaching would be much easier. But they aren’t and never will be the whole class, and they too must learn to operate in an environment of disorder and discord.

Simply put, this is what teaching children is--intense, combative, unceasing. If I accept that reality and stop expecting that it will get easy, then I can also enjoy the considerable pleasures of teaching. These pleasures include the camaraderie that comes from shared struggle, the learning moments that occur every hour of every day, the awesome sight of children growing up, and the satisfaction of playing a small role in that process.

So that’s where I am now, approaching the midpoint of this school year that marks my return to the arena I left 20 years ago. Grades are due next week--fire up the midnight oil!