powerless.
I feel so powerless sometimes.
It’s not like everyday at my job I am able to maintain a sense of the big picture of what I’m doing down here and how my work is affecting the lives of my students. But when something out of the ordinary happens to me or to one of my students that jolts me out of my daily routine, I catch a glimpse of what it was I set out here to do. I came down to LA to be a teacher, not so that I could get this masters degree or live in a convent, but because I wanted to help kids. I wanted to be a stable, healthy adult relationship in the lives of my students who may or may not have good home lives. I wanted to help provide these young people with an education so that they may be a progressive voice for change in their communities. I wanted to infuse my lesson plans with social justice motifs and inspire my kids to see love and equality as the only way to live.
Friday I was told that one of students was moving and would no longer be in my classroom. That that very day was his last day with us. Mind you, it wasn’t my principal or my mentor teacher or even the student’s parents who told me…it was two first grade girls. I scrambled that morning to put together something to let him know that we would miss him and to encourage him in his transition to a new school. Later that day in the most wretched faculty meeting ever, our nun leaned over to me and casually mentioned that she was so touched when the student’s parents came to her that day and thanked for all she had done in instructing their son. My heart sank. It’s not that I need constant affirmation, but it made me wonder what I had been doing wrong that this family didn’t even say goodbye or give me a heads up that they were leaving.
Anyway, in that moment I felt powerless. I felt like all my hard work and daily interactions with these students weren’t actually doing them any good. I felt like maybe I was actually doing them a disservice. Am I doing this wrong? What am I doing here? What should I be doing? Why am I here? Every version of this vocational conundrum cycled through my mind all day long. I was miserable. And on top of all of it, my students were little terrors that day. Everything was the worst.
Epilogue: Paige and Doug made everything better. I’m ok. I figure that I may be messing up, but I am trying, and all I can expect of myself right now is that I keep on trying.
