My student story
As we begin to near a new unknown of school, learning, being a parent to a student, or being a student in the unknown, I have found myself reflecting on more of me as a student. I have had a few conversations with friends who are not teachers. They ask questions about expectations, and what do teachers need right now, and how do I feel. I will be honest, I don’t know. I work for a district that has not answered the question. And so I plan for many possible events starting in August.
But let me return to me and school. My kindergarten teacher warned my mom she would have trouble with me. She told my mom I would have school-itis. This sounds made up. Or it sounds like I would be afraid of school, which would there by be associated with afraid of learning or doing school work, or quizzes and tests…all of that stuff that goes with school. It was a good warning. The issues was, what would lead to my school-itis?
My mom put me into a Catholic school, one of the best in the area. It was the opposite direction from my mom’s work, and a town over. It was a drive every morning. And I was never a good morning person. Even now, I need to take my time to welcome the morning, I have just learned to deal with it. I loved first grade! I loved my teacher, and that I was learning. What was becoming apparent was that I did not learn like other kids. I worked fast, and then wanted to wiggle and talk and needed more. My first grade teacher encouraged me to doodle, she encouraged me to quietly go to the back of the classroom when I finished my work and read on the carpet. The only issue with that one was that I read while rolling around on the ground, so I was still a bit of a distraction. My first grade teacher talked to my mom about my behavior a lot. I was just more to handle than other kids. But she taught me a lot, even though it didn’t necessarily stick at the time.
Second grade came and my ability to pay attention to details kind of stood out. Not because I was good at it, but the exact opposite. I would hear one word that sounded important, so that is what I remembered. I also have memories of missing chunks of school (school-itis?). I also got to see a new doctor who made me draw while we talked and I remember the two way mirror in the room we did a lot of talking in in the beginning. And I was given a diagnosis. ADD, oh, and she is a bit hyperactive. Because, 1984 saw these as two separate issues. Well, now we knew I did learn different.
The rest of my time at this school has pockets of memories of me as a learner. Non-learner memories stick out more so. Like when I managed to pull my entire desk over on top of me in fourth grade. Or when I memorized the wrong poem by Shel Silverstein. Or when that girl told me I had a big head and one of the popular girls stood up and told her to shut up, I obviously was just smarter than everyone else. I was having some issues at the school, and the school was having issues with me. And so, after I got to have the fourth grade teacher who I begged to stay for, we left for another Catholic school.
My fifth grade teacher was a gem. She is now the principal of that school. And I have continued to watch it thrive and grow as a place of learning. She saw that i needed more, that I did learn fast, and that I needed to be pushed. So, when we had a foreign exchange student, I was quickly buddied up with her. I was able to learn and support my new friend. Her dad was a visiting professor at a local prestigious college. I loved having her as a friend, and it helped me to stay focused, to be honest. My middle school teacher could tell when my schedule at home changed, I had a harder time focusing and in some cases functioning. She kept an open line of communication with my mom.
And then middle school. I have to say my sixth grade homeroom teacher, who also taught math and science, was sent by God. She pushed me, she told me to push myself. Even when I struggled to focus or I would get wiggly, she would tell me to keep believing in myself. My seventh grade homeroom and English teacher pushed me to read. She would tell me to get lost in it. She told me I had an interesting sense of humor. And I loved it when she smiled at my answers. My eighth grade homeroom and middle school History teacher, he was a hoot. He made me laugh. He tended to just give me reminders. I only once remember making him upset with me because I was not doing what I needed to do. While we were learning during class, we also had some individually driven assignments. I excelled at these for the most part. I chose the section I wanted to do, and it was driven by me getting it done. It included me asking questions and finding the answers.
I have these positive memories, and yet….I was absent a lot. Enough so that in 8th grade my principal came to pick me up to take me to school. I remember crying, and my mom telling me to go with her. She tried to talk to me about how smart I was and that I was not doing the right thing by staying home instead of going to school. That I was missing my opportunity to learn. School-itis! I was learning. And my state test scores showed that I was in fact learning. And some other test we had to take also showed that I was smart. But my principal wouldn’t tell me what the score was or what it mean to say I was smart. She also became very angry with me when she asked why I was staying home and I told her ‘“I don’t know.” But honestly, I did not have the knowledge or the words to explain to her why I was staying home. I know much more now as to why…and that would fill an entire other post!
High School started well, and then…I started to stay home more. I learned that Monday and Friday were important days. Overview of the week and tests and quizzes were given on these days. And it became my MO, unless I knew something else was going on, I tended to miss Tuesday through Thursday. I called friends for my homework, and I always returned to school with a stack of completed assignments. I took quizzes and tests and aced them. I read books at home, usually not the ones assigned, but I was able to get around that a lot too. I know that many people questioned what my educational career outside of compulsory school would be. I think even I may have questioned it.
College however, was amazing! I got to pick and choose. There were classes I knew I had to take that sounded horrid, and I learned how to check on textbooks for the class prior to enrolling, and which teachers taught and which just spoke at the class. I took classes that were interesting (Photography, Zoology, Forresty, Psychology, Psychology, Psychology, Literature of Native Americans, History of Native Americans, History of Literature, Creative Writing, Music History, Music Theory). I created my own learning. I took SO MANY History and Psychology classes, that when I went to do the paperwork for graduation I realized that I had fulfilled the requirements for the minor in both. And then my ADHD kicked in, and I only did the paperwork for my major. Well…they are still my learning.
Then…teacher college. There were a handful of the courses where I felt pushed and enjoyed the learning (Psychology, Teaching English Learners, and Methodology). Yep…I apparently hated school, or the process, or the way we were taught…I had school-itis, and I chose to return to it everyday! Everyday! Outside of my children being born, the passing of my mother and my step-mother, I can count the number of times I have been home sick or “sick".”
The best part. My learning didn’t stop there. I have continued to push myself. I have a Master’s degree. And I continue to do what I call “collect degrees".” I have certificates of learning, and certificates of program creation. I love to push myself and use the learning I have to create new learning. I love to design curriculum. I enjoy putting together the process to teach something to students. I enjoy watching them take on their learning, and I love more than anything to watch them finally get something. Or to realize that they learned something new because they did it, they learned it.
As we head back to school in our new way of schooling, I hope that we all remember this. Some kids are going to excel in this new world. And some are going to struggle like they never have before. I had a few teachers that stuck their necks out and gave me advice. My first grade teacher, my 6th grade teacher, my 7th grade teacher, my high school history teacher (who I still talk to), my high school English teacher, my high school Psychics teacher, and my high school Principal and Vice Principal. Out of all of my teachers, these were the people that made me stop and see that I am what matters, and that my learning is important. Some of them told me ideas to help me work through my different way of learning. Some told me to continue to believe in myself. Some may have taken bets (always them betting on me) with those who didn’t believe I would make it. As I look back on those who gave me guidance, I appreciate it. If I can do that for just one kid, I have done my job. That was my goal my first year of teaching. Now, I hope that I can help one kid a year see that they are worth it, and that they can learn, it just might look different.
