Dropping My Anger

"Whoever gets angry, if he is a wise man, his wisdom departs from him" 

- Jewish Gemara, Pesachim 66b

For many educators, teaching can be an extremely personal profession - if not one of the most, only after being a parent.  Our classrooms become our homes away from home (often times spending more hours at school than in our own homes) and our curriculum, classroom structures and routines are an extension of our educational beliefs, personalities, and identities. We tend to refer to our students as our kids.  In fact when my students ask me if I have any children, I usually respond, "Yes, I have 500+ children, but none right now are biological nor legally adopted."  So when we are asked, demanded, to change our practices or given constructive criticism, I can at least speak for myself and say, that I immediately get on the defensive; wanting, needing, to protect and defend what is ultimately at the core of my teaching, me.  

In the three years I taught in NYC I experienced three different schedules with three different models of teaching.  At the end of the 2011-2012 school year, I was more exhausted than ever and that fearful burned out feeling was creeping in. So it only made sense that when the school year ended and my principal informed me once again my curriculum, classroom structure, and supports were going to change for the future school year all I had the energy to do was crumble to the floor in the hallway right outside my room, tears of frustration, anger, and exhaustion streaming down my face, repeating over and over, “when will it just be easy? I just want it to be easy!”  But "easy" was not what I really wanted, it was consistency, it was autonomy and recognition that what my students and I were accomplishing in my classroom was good and not in need to drastic change!

I had spent countless hours over the course of the 2011-2012 school year collaborating with my math team, participating in weekly video debriefs of our teaching methods, and weekly coaching meetings with my Assistant Principal and mentor, Luke, (who never ceases to push my thinking and challenge me to constantly improve).  I spent half the year working on my questioning techniques and making sure my teacher moves were intentional, promoting the facilitation of the growth of independent critical thinkers, rather than empty receptacles awaiting to receive information. So the last thing I wanted to hear, was that I was going to be expected and required by administration to alter my teaching pedagogy completely, to one that was originally developed to promote literacy in an elementary setting and had really never been done in its true form in a Math high school class. I was confused, I was frustrated, and I was angry! It may have even been the first time in my life that I had even felt this sort of anger.

I spent the first few months of the 2012-2013 school year, walls up, in total defensive mode of my classroom and curriculum, fighting and arguing with my administration (or as we would call it at my school, "push back").  I was confident in my abilities as a teacher and didn't feel like I needed the rigid structure that the pedagogy requires. I felt all I had been working towards in the past 6 years was under attack and in response I refused to drink the Kool-aid. But I also refused to drop my anger, which ultimately hindered my growth and more importantly the growth and success of my students.

By the time Thanksgiving came around, I was tired of fighting, I was tired of being angry, and decided it was time to drop my anger and begin to just give in. I came to understand that my push back and hard-ass attitude was also my ego's way of asking for help. I would push and challenge in hopes someone would push and challenge me with more force, compelling me to think, to reflect, and to step outside my comfort area and grow.  So instead of pushing back (with little honest interest in hearing a response) I began to humble myself and ask for the help and support I felt I needed. What transpired over the course of the following 7 months thus became the most transformative months of my teaching career.  Ironically, once I dropped my anger I didn't have to just give in, I was able to admit that my personal philosophy behind education was similar to that of LC which then allowed me to engage with the pedagogy in more productive verse destructive ways.

Unlike other school years, I ended the 2012-2013 school year exhausted but energized. What I learned in my past year of teaching is how much more I as an educator, and my students, can gain if I am only willing to lower my wall of defenses, drop my anger, put my ego aside, humble myself within my of “expertise,” and honestly and openly engaging in a dialogue whose end goal is ultimately the same as mine: to create life long independent critical thinkers. Some might say that in the end, I drank the Kool-aid, and they would be right. I did. But not before I dropped my anger and in a clear minded intellectual professional manner was sure the Kool-aid was worth drinking and not spiked. Turns out, it was pretty tasty too!

After this experience, I can now only wonder what would happen within public education in this country if we all (teachers, administrators, politicians) dropped our anger? We each have too much wisdom to share and grow from to risk losing it to anger...

**This post is dedicated to my amazing family at UAGC. I could not, would not, have gone through this journey without them! I am endlessly grateful for my colleagues who never gave up on me and supported, challenged, and entertained my rants throughout the year. Thank you! Thank you for helping me become a more humbled and inspired educator, leader, and individual.