Dear Sarah,
I’ve been teaching for 19 years and am proud of who I am a teacher. Not every lesson is successful and some years have been tough, but I love what I do and I always love my classes. This year is different. I can’t find the joy in my class. The kids don’t listen. What I’ve done in the past isn’t working this time. There are behavior issues that wear me out and every day feels intense. Here’s my question. How do I find that joy again? I have half of a year left with my third graders and I want to know how to take a bad situation and make it a good one.
Sincerely,
Reclaiming Classroom Joy
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Dear Reclaiming Classroom Joy,
My heart aches for you. Thank you for being brave enough to say out loud what every teacher has felt at some point. Ask anyone who has been in this profession for awhile about “that class” and you’ll see a look of understanding, of empathy.
I remember first learning about “that class” from my mother (who recently retired from 30 years of teaching fourth grade) that year when I kept finding her quietly crying in the basement when she thought my siblings and I were asleep. She was one of those special teachers that students clamored for and parents were thankful for. She found and brought joy to learning for decades of young people. But that year she had a student who would stand on his desk every chance he got, a group of girls who were incessantly cruel to each other, and no matter what she tried they complained and whined. I remember her teary confession one night, “They make it so hard to like them. I don’t know if I can.”
The same words have come out of my mouth. I remember the year my sophomores were so trying that I was exhausted before they even walked in the door. I tried everything: incentives and consequences, lots of choice and highly structured lessons, positive notes home and tough meetings with parents. I invited in extra adults whenever I could. I even brought in my Air Force brother who served in the Special Forces to talk about respect of self and others. I consulted every teacher I knew and even then, nothing. They were mean to each other. They were mean to me. Every minute seemed a Sisyphean task. One day I finally muttered the words to a trusted colleague, “I just don’t like them.”
In life and in teaching, I often have to say the words out loud in order to get past them. It’s the confrontation with the part of myself I’m scare of, which also liberates me. So I said the words out loud. To another human being. I couldn’t take them back. That forced me exactly into the space I needed to go: uncomfortable change. Soon, I started the practice that changed the semester for me. I stopped eating lunch with my colleagues and instead prepared for class by taking out my class list and saying out loud something I liked about every student. The insight came swiftly: if I couldn’t figure out what I liked about them, they would never like themselves. And, of course, that was the real problem in our classroom. For all of the ways I felt helpless in this situation, this was the one lever I could control.
Don’t misunderstand me. This practice wasn’t like magic pixie dust that transformed our classroom into the stuff of inspirational teacher movies. No. We still struggled. Every single day. But the more I leaned into the challenge instead of evaded it, the closer we got to rewriting our story. Now, when I think about “that class,” I do it with a smile, a reverence because it’s “that class” who taught me about facing fears, it’s “that class” who taught me that every student has a story and every story matters. It’s “that class” who eventually caused me to paint on a wall in my house: “We believe the stories we tell ourselves.”
We believe the stories we tell ourselves. When I read your question, I know what’s underneath it. You’re really wondering if you can still be a good teacher if you don’t like your class right now. The answer is a resounding yes. Yes, because you care enough to wonder.
I have three children whom I love dearly. But some days we don’t like each other very much. Our responsibility in these times is to put one honest foot in front of the other, to go out of our way to extend kindness and to be willing to find meaning in getting to the other side. I don’t think for a second you’re going to end your year on a note of “good riddance.” Without a doubt, I know you’ll slow down enough to see your own arc and along with it, the arc your students have drawn with you.
Then I hope you’ll pass your wisdom onto the rest of us.
Teach openly,
With Teacher2Teacher
I found myself nodding as I read this post. I think it’s so important that we admit our doubts to ourselves and our peers when we struggle with a particular group of students. And this is usually where the struggles lie – with a group of students, and not necessarily the individuals. When I’ve experienced this, working with the challenging students one on one is fine. However, there’s something about the group dynamic that often creates these extremely challenging environments. Struggling with a class like this one year, I did something very similar to what Sarah suggests. It was around Thanksgiving time, so I decided to write each of my students a personalized thank-you note. The process of writing these notes forced me to think about at least one positive thing each of my students contributed to the classroom community. Similar to Sarah’s narrative, this wasn’t a cure-all for our struggles but it did help me to think more positively about my students.
Amanda,
Thank you for sharing your story. I think you make a wonderful point about the difference between a single student who is challenging and a group of challenging students. You also remind me that when we pay attention to the individuals who make up “that class” we’re far more likely to see the positive through the difficult.
All best,
Sarah
I have had a couple of “those” classes. I just finished with one on Monday because our exams are this week. I had them first period and it made it hard to find joy first thing in the morning. We would have good days and bad days but we survived the semester! I like the idea of thinking about one good thing about each student. I will keep that in mind next time I have one of “those” classes.
Joy can be elusive. Especially during exams week. Perhaps that’s when we need to be deliberate about reclaiming our joy the most. Thank you for sharing. I know others can relate!
Dear Reclaiming Classroom Joy,
Unfortunately, I have had many classes like you described. One thing I did that took a lot of time, but was well worth it was similar to the other responders. I wrote individual notes to every one of my students. I even did this when I taught 6th graders, and I had 140 students. I searched for something positive to say to each student. I also gave them advice on what I would like to see for them for the rest of the semester. I gave these cards/notes out to each of my students during spring conferences where the students led their conferences with their parents. Two things happened: After I wrote a group of notes, I found myself feeling very positive and happy. Many times when you are in the middle of all the stress of lesson plans, grading, committee work, etc, it’s hard to see the reason why you went into teaching in the first place. I found that when I forced myself to see the positive attributes of each of my students, I could walk in the next day with a positive outlook.
The response from most of the students was amazing. Sometimes, students need to see what you actually see in them. Many times, we think the kids know what we like about them or that we see a certain potential. This is not always true with some students. When you are specific about stating something you appreciate about the child, they take it to heart. I had one little girl who walked in the next day after receiving my notecard. She actually walked differently and had her homework completed! This was not a common habit for her. I remember looking at her and she gave me a small nod of her head. It was like she had a different understanding of my opinion of her.
I have had students and parents approach me years later to tell me that they still have my note hanging on their refrigerator or bulletin board.
I have continued this practice even at the University level. Students are shocked. Many of them say that they have never had a teacher take the time to write them a note, and they greatly appreciated the gesture.
I wish you the best with the rest of your year. It may still be a long year, but I am sure you will learn from this experience and be stronger from it.
Hi Beth,
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I know our readers continue to appreciate feeling a sense of community around these shared experiences so many of us have. It looks like you, too, found a way to take a trying situation and learn from it. What another insightful model for us. Thanks for sharing!
Sarah
Always remembering that we are who we are because of every encounter we have up until the very moment reminds me why the student acts the way they act. It consoles me to know that their behaviors and actions have nothing to do with me. They are the result of their prior experience. But the environment that I set up in my room, once they walk through that door-that is mine! The expectations that we create and stay consistant with will reward us. I love to be reminded to focus on the positives that they bring to the class. Thank you!
Jennifer,
I love the wisdom of that first sentence. It applies to all of us, students and teachers alike. Thank you for reminding us all!
Sarah