One of my year 12 students requested I write in her graduation book over the weekend. She wants to be a drama teacher in the future and asked me to write down some advice for her when she begins teaching.  This is what I have said.
 
Be yourself – Don’t be afraid to let your students see the real you. The more ‘yourself’ you are the more your students will connect with you. Don’t try to teach a lesson exactly like you have a seen another teacher teach it – it won’t work. Bring your personality to your classroom, your passions to your content and your humanity to your relationships.
 
Smile - You will hear some teachers say, 'Don't smile until Easter. Ignore them. What good could come of this? The only possible outcome is alienating your students. So my advice, "Smile everyday to Easter and everyday beyond”. Smiles create more smiles leading to happy, warm learning environments where your students feel safe and nurtured.
 
Look for the joy – I often make a list of the things that have brought me joy in my classroom throughout the day or across the week. I give thanks for the small things – the laughter I shared with my class, the completion of my to-do-list, the improvement that one kid made in the last assessment, the coffee and conversation shared with a colleague. List them in your head as you wait in traffic on the way home, jot them in your day book or keep a journal. By actively partaking in this practice you will not become disheartened by the pressures of teaching because you a constantly reminding yourself why you do it in the first place.
 
Remember you teach students not content – Never put content before the students. You will have moments where you feel pressured to keep pushing through a checklist of dot points because of a looming exam, but don’t forget about the kids in front of you. If you feel pressured they will too and ultimately won’t learn at all. If you need to slow it down so that deep thinking can take place, do it. If they want to divert from the path of study to explore an area of interest, let them. If a colleague says, “We don’t have time for that”, tell them you will find time. The kids will thank you in the long run.
 
Find a connection – Find a connection with each and everyone of your students. The connection doesn’t need to be big, just enough to show you care. For example, if Peter plays basketball on a Thursday evening ask him how his game went as he enters class on Friday; if Michaela watches the X-Factor ask her what she thought of the performances on Sunday night; if Anne loves Justin Bieber play some of his latest music as you pack up the classroom; if John is great with technology ask him to help with your computer. Let them know you see them, hear them and are genuinely interested in them.
 
Tap into their gifts – Each of your students have talents and gifts (some more obvious then others!). Your job is to ultimately find these gifts and make the most of them. Give them as many opportunities to shine as you can. If you do this, their confidence will grow and they will flourish.
 
The paperwork doesn't matter – Seriously it doesn’t. Do it when you have to but don’t waste a second on it otherwise. If you work on it constantly it will become all consuming and suck the life out of you, leaving no time for lesson planning or creativity in your classroom.
 
Sleep – Teaching is exhausting! Make sure you get enough sleep every night to deal with what tomorrow is going to throw at you. You have to be able to think on your feet, do twenty things at once, communicate constantly and do it with a smile on your face, Hence, eight hours sleep is a must!

What advice would you add to this list? 

Image by Unsplash.

I’m sorry… It’s just…well I am tired…
 
I wipe away the tears quickly trying to put on a brave face. I apologise for my ‘weakness’ because that is how it is perceived. I write it off as being tired, overworked, run down and maybe that is part of it. However, I know in my heart that my tears mean something else.
 
They mean I care. They mean I understand. They mean I am connected. They are part of who I am.
 
Ever since I was young I was always reprimanded for crying.
 
You’re crying over nothing.
Grow up.
It’s not worth the tears.
 
Maybe sometimes these comments were valid, but I couldn’t control my response… and why did I have to? Why are we told not to cry? Not to feel?
 
As I have aged I have more control over these tears. I know they are not socially acceptable, especially not in the workplace, but I also know that they are part of who I am and I no longer feel ashamed when they come.
 
They mean I care. They mean I understand. They mean I am connected. They are part of who I am.
 
I cry for my students often. I always have.
I cry when I am proud of them.
I cry when they produce work beyond my expectations.
I cry when they produce work way below my expectations especially when I know they can do so much better.
I cry when they are doing it tough.
I cry when their home lives lack joy and love.
I cry when they lose belief in themselves.
I cry when they walk out of my classroom for the last time.
I cry tears of joy, tears of passion, tears of anger, tears of sadness.
I cry because I am human, and they are human and I love them.
 
Teachers are often asked to disconnect, to separate the emotion and focus on the teaching. However, we forget the personal nature of our work, how well teachers know their students and how much time we spend with them. Sometimes I feel like I have seen more of my students in one week then my own children, yet I am encouraged to feel nothing.
 
A teacher who cries is a teacher who cares deeply for their students.
A teacher who cries is empathetic in nature.
A teacher who cries is connected to those around them.
A teacher who cries wishes they could give more, change more, be more.
A teacher who cries is passionate.
A teacher who cries loves their work more then you will ever know.
A teacher who cries gives whole-heartedly.
 
Do not make teachers who wear their hearts on their sleeves feel like they have done something wrong. Acknowledge their passion, their love, and their caring nature. Lift them up, because I can guarantee they will be the first to lift you up when you need it. 

Image by Alex Jones. Sourced from Unsplash.

"But the really important ones are here. I don't want to get too technical, but these are called Core Memories. Each one came from a super important moment in Riley's life, like when she first scored a goal. That was so amazing! And each core memory powers a different aspect of Riley's personality. Like Hockey Island." - Joy, Inside Out

I recently watched Pixar’s Inside Out. If you haven’t seen it, you should. There is nothing ground breaking about the concept; however, it sparked a fuse within me that has lead to deep thinking around our memories and our emotional make-up. One concept I especially connected with was the idea that we have core memories that shape and aid the development of the many aspects of our personalities.

I began to wonder about my core memories.
What core memories have shaped my personality?
What core memories have shaped my teaching personality?
And what can I learn from identifying and reflecting on them?

My Core Teaching Memories
The project was on Japan. He gave me full marks for my efforts. My favourite part of the day was hearing him read. He read the BFG by Roald Dahl. Funny, he was exactly what I imagined the BFG to look like in my ten-year-old imagination.

I was twelve. My godmother took me to the theatre to see The Taming of the Shrew performed by The Bell Shakespeare Company. She gave me a thin narrative version before the play worrying that I wouldn’t understand it when I saw it. I understood it. That’s what theatre does - makes stories come to life. I remember the set, the costumes, the actor’s faces and the confetti that was blown into the audience. I went home and began to memorise Shakespeare.

I played grandma in our play Unhand Me Squire. I had to die dramatically on stage. I was nervous. Miss Dodd believed in me though (well at least she made me think she did) and so I died a most dramatic death. The audience loved it.

I was the only girl in my class and the teacher didn’t like me. I knew she didn’t like me because she told me often that she didn’t know why I was studying music. She liked to make music herself by screaming insults at us all from the tops of her lungs.

Year 12 English, King Lear. How can this man make Shakespeare suck so much? We snuck next door to listen to a real teacher teach, hiding in the cupboard at the back of her room. We called it Narnia. He didn’t know we had left; she knew we were there. She also made sure we got a copy of her notes.

The joy of my university lecturer, Dr Carol Richards. Boy, did she love teaching!

Nanjing Normal University, Nanjing, China. One hundred Political Science Majors sat before me. I am 21 years old and their English Teacher. “Um… Why don’t we start by practicing an introduction? Each of you stand, greet the class and introduce yourself.”
“Chinese name or English name?”
“You have English names?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. English names.”
That was the day I met Apple, Chewing Gum and God.

The first day of my first permanent teaching position. “Just so you know, the naughtiest boy in the school is in your year 11 class. Sing out if you need a hand and whatever you do don’t take any nonsense from him.” Turns out he was one of the best kids I have ever taught.

“And the winner is….” I can’t believe it. We just won a National Competition and I have been part of leading these students to this moment. My heart is full of pride, achievement and joy. For the first time I feel like I really do make a difference in their lives.

Skip forward a few years…

The nurse passes me my first little wrinkly, blood covered baby. My heart explodes.

I lose my third daughter to Congenital Heart Disease. As I enter my classroom for the first time since she passed away, I look into the eyes of my students and wonder if their parents or other teachers fully realise the gift they have been given.  It is a privilege to know and love these students each and every day.

One cubicle door is shut. Why the hell didn’t they look here first? “Hey there. I know it is you. It’s just me out here. Do you think you could open the door so I can make sure your ok?” Silence. Slowly the engaged symbol shifts to vacant. I take a breath. Her eyes meet mine. The saddest eyes I have ever seen. I hold her gaze as my right hand moves to her left and carefully untwines her fingers from around the knife.  “You’re ok,” I say to us both. “You’re going to be ok.”

His name is Peter. He loves wrestling and practical jokes. He is 13 years old and the best teacher I have ever had. He has quadriplegic cerebral palsy.  We laugh together until I have tears streaming down our faces.

“Do you know what your greatest and worst quality is?”,  begins my boss as she leans back in her chair. “You care too much.”  I decide to take this on board.

It is my second day at my new school. I excitedly tell my year 10’s about the great project we will be working on this term. My enthusiasm is met by blank stares and silence. “Is everything ok? Do you not like the sound of this idea?” More silence. One brave soul raises her hand, “We do Miss. Honestly we do. It’s just that we aren’t used to being challenged like this. You are going to take some time to get used too.”

And so I continue to collect these core memories.

Reflection
Firstly, I am surprised by the memories that came to me during this exercise. Moments I have not thought of in many years and moments I think of often. Each a volt of energy powering my Island of Teaching.

And then there are the faces. Faces of my many teachers, my many students, my many colleagues. Each has their own place on my island. Some have led by example, some have shown me what not to do through their own actions and some have opened my eyes to either the world around me or a part of myself.

Oscar Wilde wrote, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” He makes a point, but I wonder how much of ourselves come from everyone else? The people we meet, our relationships, our connections, our experiences with and through others. I have learnt and continue to learn about what type of teacher I want to be by watching other teachers teach; by being present in the moment with my students; by loving and engaging with those around me.

I am a creative teacher.
I am an independent learner.
I am a resilient teacher.
I am a performer.
I am an empathetic teacher.
I am an advocator for those students in my class that just don’t fit in.
I am a mother.
I am a ‘I-am-going-to-change-the-world’-kind-of-teacher.
I am a joy-fueled teacher.

And I am these things due to my lived experience. My teaching personality is built from my core memories – good and bad.

Challenge
I challenge you to undergo this same project. Identify and reflect on the core memories that have shaped you as a teacher. For me it has been an affirming opportunity and I don’t believe we affirm ourselves enough as teachers.  Instead of reflecting on your lesson plans, assessments and programs, take time to reflect on your own defining moments. What can be learnt from these experiences? What can be gained? What can we take with us on our journey?

Feel free to share some of your core teaching memories in the comments below.  Or better still share some of these memories with your own teaching colleagues. I think there is much to be learnt from the experiences of others and I feel if we, as teachers, had an insight into each others core teaching memories we may be more respectful of each others decisions and more open to those who teach differently to us.

Teaching in Nanjing, China.

A Workshop With Dr Carol Richards.