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Jun. 17th, 2010 09:06 pm
Dude, my students are awesome.
Lately I've been having some doubts about teaching, especially about teaching High School. Tonight, my Class of 2010 Seniors destroyed those doubts.
At my current school (well, current until tomorrow), part of graduation is the seniors having the opportunity to get up and speak--thank their families, teachers, whatever they want to say. Last year, the year we began the tradition, two kids spoke. Tonight, we had 15 of the 20 grads (remember, I have been teaching at a small school; the senior class is the smallest class--11th grade next year will number 100).
Every single one of those kids thanked me, in glowing terms, for the education I've given them. They acknowledged some of my unorthodox methods--nerf gun warfare, for example--and that my class sometimes goes off on tangents (perhaps too much, but usually it's worth it, because it's to teach them something Important about the world that they don't know). But they all believed that they've learned from me, both in English and in life. They very nearly made me cry.
Then it got worse (or better, depending on how afraid of praise you are)--the two class leaders made a colleague (the other senior advisor) and I stand up and they presented us with "a small gift."
Mine was an Amazon Kindle 2.
Seriously.
Seriously.
When I saw that, I was flabbergasted. I was amazed. I was . . . I was in shock. I felt like Sally Field at the Oscars: "You really like me."
Apparently they've been working on this for months, with every member of the class taking part, as well as some of the faculty. What an amazing gift--and I don't just mean the Kindle.
I mean, sure, the Kindle is nice. And it shows how well they know me. But the praise, from the kids who I'm always secretly afraid hate the living shit out of me--that's golden. That will stay with me for years.
I will miss those kids. They were already my favorite graduating class of my career. Now I love them even more. Because that praise convinced me that I belong in this profession--that I have something to offer these kids: Not just my skills, but my love.
At my current school (well, current until tomorrow), part of graduation is the seniors having the opportunity to get up and speak--thank their families, teachers, whatever they want to say. Last year, the year we began the tradition, two kids spoke. Tonight, we had 15 of the 20 grads (remember, I have been teaching at a small school; the senior class is the smallest class--11th grade next year will number 100).
Every single one of those kids thanked me, in glowing terms, for the education I've given them. They acknowledged some of my unorthodox methods--nerf gun warfare, for example--and that my class sometimes goes off on tangents (perhaps too much, but usually it's worth it, because it's to teach them something Important about the world that they don't know). But they all believed that they've learned from me, both in English and in life. They very nearly made me cry.
Then it got worse (or better, depending on how afraid of praise you are)--the two class leaders made a colleague (the other senior advisor) and I stand up and they presented us with "a small gift."
Mine was an Amazon Kindle 2.
Seriously.
Seriously.
When I saw that, I was flabbergasted. I was amazed. I was . . . I was in shock. I felt like Sally Field at the Oscars: "You really like me."
Apparently they've been working on this for months, with every member of the class taking part, as well as some of the faculty. What an amazing gift--and I don't just mean the Kindle.
I mean, sure, the Kindle is nice. And it shows how well they know me. But the praise, from the kids who I'm always secretly afraid hate the living shit out of me--that's golden. That will stay with me for years.
I will miss those kids. They were already my favorite graduating class of my career. Now I love them even more. Because that praise convinced me that I belong in this profession--that I have something to offer these kids: Not just my skills, but my love.