Impossible Things

"Why make a fuss about this particular impossible thing?"  - from Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie


I got discouraged this week by all of the impossibilties of the job. Every year it seems I have more to do and less time to do it. I spend most of my waking hours, and some of my dreaming hours, thinking about the classroom, composing a neverending narrative in my head of what comes next, and how that will connect to what follows. Of course, as budgets have been slashed by the state, there are fewer of us in the building, and we have larger classes to teach and more subjects, so there are multiple narratives I must compose.

Additionally, last year, I took on the task of helping to drive the school improvement process.  Logically, teachers are the ones who should do this work since we are the ones who have to make the changes necessary for improvement, but it's a tall order when you're already overbooked, and it's yet another narrative to contribute to.  With all of these responsibilities and then some, there is no down time in my day, and the exhaustion that results often leaves me questioning my own abilities. Surrounded by constant need, sometimes I just don't have anything left to give. Meanwhile, a growing pile of papers that need to be graded is taking over my desk.

Maybe the last straw this week came when I was filling out the annual Highly Qualified paperwork for the state. This is my twenty-third year to teach, and yet, every year I have to complete this ridiculous form for the state demonstrating exactly HOW I'm highly qualified to teach what I teach. I find it demoralizing every time.

But then the kids come in and get excited about a book we're reading. Mrs. Boswell, I've been reading ahead. Is that okay?  Mrs. Boswell, is there a sequel to this book?  THERE IS??? What's it called???Will you read it to us??? Please??? Mrs. Boswell, look at the picture I found (a student shows me an artist's rendition of a chupacabra in a book he found on mythical creatures and wants to pass it around the room becuse it's mentioned in a book we're reading together). Mrs. Boswell, can I join the cyber book club?  When do we get to start posting there?  A student comes in before school to find a quiet place to read in my room - she was up late reading last night, and her addiction carries over into the morning. She quietly giggles at her desk as she reads.

I wrote a letter to a student who is in basic training for the marines a few weeks ago, and I received a letter back this week. I wanted to encourage him, but when I wrote, I really expected that my letter would mean more to his mother than it would to him. On Facebook yesterday, his mother described how happy her son was when he received my letter, and she wanted to remind teachers of their importance in the lives of their students.  She pointed out that long after they leave your classroom, you are still remembered and valued. She expressed appreciation to our school district for having the kind of teachers who have cared for and influenced her children.

The eagerness of my students to learn and their enthusiasm for the books they are reading recharges my own dying batteries. A letter from a former student and the gratefulness of his mother help me out of my slump.It's about relationships. Always about relationships.

I begin to dream about possibilities again.