One Month After Christmas
I am taking a moment to reflect on the differences, both positive and negative, that have enlivened my learning this year...I stand awed by the grand canyon of experience that gapes between my current place and the location I work in leaves my students. I am still moderately terrible at talking to people, relatively horrible at inspiring people in groups, and horrendous at minute to minute organization.
I have learned to think in 3 directions at once, to control behavior with bribes, and to speak succinctly and swiftly to keep attention on me. I have learned that a smile in a tense situation is much better than a harsh word.
I still need to learn to cope with things I cannot understand: people who desire to hurt themselves or others, people who do not want to learn, people who would tell a child he is stupid and won't ever be any other way, social situations that allow children as young as ten to be hyper aware of sexuality, violence, and degradation. I have learned that I can make myself sick with work but I can't make everything better with work. I feel, a lot of the time, like I am trying to plug a mortal leak with tissues and my hands. I press down, sometimes I shove my whole fist in, but it still leaks and I still am unprepared for the consequences when, thinking I have solved things, I lift my hands and it gushes again.
I am proud of my students work. I am proud of my own work. I am vain enough that I imagine I might...might...be good at this someday.
but not today.
I have learned to think in 3 directions at once, to control behavior with bribes, and to speak succinctly and swiftly to keep attention on me. I have learned that a smile in a tense situation is much better than a harsh word.
I still need to learn to cope with things I cannot understand: people who desire to hurt themselves or others, people who do not want to learn, people who would tell a child he is stupid and won't ever be any other way, social situations that allow children as young as ten to be hyper aware of sexuality, violence, and degradation. I have learned that I can make myself sick with work but I can't make everything better with work. I feel, a lot of the time, like I am trying to plug a mortal leak with tissues and my hands. I press down, sometimes I shove my whole fist in, but it still leaks and I still am unprepared for the consequences when, thinking I have solved things, I lift my hands and it gushes again.
I am proud of my students work. I am proud of my own work. I am vain enough that I imagine I might...might...be good at this someday.
but not today.