Short stories about teaching

For better or worse teaching is for me a battle, a heroic effort, a holy cause... so it is not boring. Some moments have stood out.

The first days that I was with my students I realized I had to work for them. I had to let them see me sweat in front of them. This is what I am doing, and I care about what I am doing, and I want to do it well. They asked me what I was doing on the weekend, and I told them that I was catching up on sleep and getting ready for next week. This is not conventionally cool, but what is better than being cool is being a human; far better than cool is someone who cares about you! That was a simple realization. As a result, I have been reinforcing these ideas: I care about you, I care about this school, I care about your after-school life, I care about our future, I care about myself. Amazing that caring became cool to a bunch of high school students. Caring means you're united with something and being united with something lets you lose yourself: that feels good.

We watched a movie on conservation. After the movie, I remarked, "That was really depressing." The class gave me a slow nod: this is remarkable as just weeks before the class hardly looked at me with any seriousness. Back to my first recollection, it was by showing them my care: about the little things, about them turning in their assignments right side up on top of the projector when they're finished, about having them return to the front to write the date on their papers, about pronouncing their last names correctly... these added up. And I got a slow nod. A student said something about their being so much to do, and the odds seem so stacked against humanity. We use a lot of resources. I mentioned something I'd read earlier about Best Buy recycling any electronics item. A student mentioned how many old cell phones his family kept at home. Another mentioned that we should collect electronics as a class. I said I'd bring in a bin, and bring two old phones I keep in my closet. The class was uplifted: students were asking more questions, maybe I can carpool with you said one, another mentioned new compact fluorescent bulbs. I said students could earn extra credit by bringing to class on Friday an example of something they've done, or have committed to doing, to help the environment. My cooperating teacher liked this idea.

I taught a lesson on exotic species, how they need not be interesting, wild or different, but just non-native. I gave the example of Kudzu in North Carolina, and of Zebra Mussels near my family home in Michigan. Two days later we used computers to research exotics: students filled out a data table, then posted their research to an online database through our textbook's website: other students around the country have posted their research, with the result a relatively comprehensive database with work by a diverse cross-section of students. One student told me she wanted to work alone. She was really interested in the zebra mussels that we discussed, how I mentioned that they came in on the hulls of freighters from the Atlantic all the way to the small lake on which my family lived. She spent the whole class period, long after other students had finished and begun another assignment, and eventually filled a page with her research on the exotics: how they originated in Europe, how they use bissell threads to attach to the hulls and motor props on boats. She told me that it was just interesting to her. Something about this really affected me.

Going to college for five years has been a long road. I have spent endless hours in labs, in tutoring, in classrooms, in libraries. I imagine I've spent over 500 hours in just libraries on my college path. I've written more papers, read more texts, done more research, and memorized more science than I imagined when I began. But it is worth the hard work. Teaching is a good job.