I never expected to cry after a day in the classroom. It came out of left field, and I was frustrated in myself for letting the day’s events eat away at my resolve and make me feel inadequate. I learned more about teaching this week than I have in four years of undergrad. I learned that I was correct in choosing my vocation because I was hand-crafted to be an educator. I learned that I am fortunate enough to have the life that I have. And I learned that there will be many more good days than bad days because I have great kids with great hearts in all of my classes who will at times test my patience.

The week began at a low point. I was trying to play catch-up with the students after three snow days. Fun fact: I hate playing catch up. I had to cut instructional materials just to make sure that students were able to complete the most necessary aspects of a week of proofreading and revising papers. It was a crazy two days to say the least.

Midway through the week, I began teaching the preliminary materials for an extended unit on King Lear, which is one of my favorite Shakespearian plays. While I was stoked to finally teach what I have been preparing for, I had low expectations for excitement from my students. Boy, was I wrong.

At first, it was like pulling teeth to get my students to focus on the extensive notes about Shakespeare and drama before we could even read the complex text. They looked at me like I was crazy for insinuating that they would be responsible for reading a 411 year-old play, and to top it all off, they have this uncanny ability to frustrate me to no end with their continual use of their mobile devices. I kid you not, I have some students who will blatantly bring out their phones and hold conversations as I am trying to teach.

I learned really quick that incentives go a long way with tweens. As soon as I mentioned the possibility of donuts in two weeks, it was all “Yes Ma’am, we’re all ears.” Once they actually started paying attention, the mood in the room shifted. I managed to get sophomores excited about a play that typically wouldn’t be taught to sophomores. I am so excited that they are pumped to play feuding brothers and vindictive sisters; it was the high of my week.

These groups of students taught me so much about myself. I love falling into the self-doubt black hole where all I can accomplish is an ample dose of overthinking my abilities. When I was at my lowest, they showed me that I sparked an interest in them, which is all I can ask for. Plus, they’re retaining information, which is an essential tool when reading this dense of a text. I’m so proud of the growth that I already see in them because even though at times the effort doesn’t reach the intelligence, at least now they see that I’m in their corner. I want them to succeed, and I will do anything in my power to guide them to a self-reflective success that they all deserve.

While my students are receptive now, I still have to garner their attention for the next five weeks. Can I do it? Absolutely. Will it be difficult? Absolutely, but I am ready for the next challenge that teaching has queued up to make my life a tad more difficult.

Speaking of difficult, I just finished planning my EdTPA mini unit, which is a requirement for some universities and some employment opportunities. I begin teaching this mini unit this week, and I am oddly excited to enter the realm of character development and analysis with my students. It will be a challenge, but not one that they cannot show improvement and growth with by the end of the week. We also get to begin acting out the play in class, and my students are so excited to see the plots unfold before their eyes.

I never expected to love my job as much as I do now, especially after shedding some tears. I never expected to love planning for an average of 20 hours a week, especially after so many failed attempts. The lesson: never stop pursuing your dreams no matter how hard it gets or how low you feel. I still love teaching, and my students make it so much more worthwhile.

As I stood in front of the room a few days ago, I stumbled over my words, and a girl giggled, which made everyone else buckle over in side-stitching laughter. Instead of reprimanding her or getting mad, I chuckled along with them. I decided to use my mistakes as an example – to show them that it’s okay to laugh at yourself every once in a while. She apologized, and I told her that I would have laughed if I were in her position. That little moment of laughter gave me the insight I needed to build an even stronger rapport.

I was made for this, and I’m sure the next few weeks will prove even more eventful and exciting. There is a guarantee that I’ll cry some more; so, stay tuned. Coffee has propelled me through each and every bad day, and my steaming mugs will remain a staple as I continue my adventures as a classroom teacher.