April 13, 2011 marked the third annual Hobby Day exhibition at the middle school. This is a day where teachers have been asked to indicate a hobby that they are interested in paired with a brief elaboration of what that hobby entails. Then this list is dispersed to students who rank from 1-10 the hobbies that they would like to experience. A fabulous and dedicated colleague organizes and creates a schedule for each individual student in our building (over 700!) and we prepare for the great adventure that is Hobby Day.
When I received the email months ago during the preliminary stages of this planning, I contemplated and critiqued my hobby. "Creative Writing" -- Will any of the students even be interested (especially amongst the other choices of tie dye, bags, storm chasing etc)? What exercises can I do that will stimulate their brains? Will they engage? Is is possible for me to create a sense of community in 90 minute sessions with students that I don't necessarily know? Should I tone down my enthusiasm which takes most students at least a few months to get used to...if not, do I run the risk of scaring them into silence?
Ultimately, my anxiety lead me to two conclusions: 1.) I would embrace this hobby regardless of the outcome and 2.) I will purchase food and candy to help prevent potential mutiny.
The evening prior, I called a colleague to run my proposed agenda of the day by her and procure some feedback. I swear that even as a teacher of 20/30 years I will forever be doing this -- I'm so thankful for those who like to talk shop! -- Unfortunately the reception in my building was poor and she only heard bits and pieces of the ideas I had prepared; however, She told me what I really needed to hear at 8:30pm at night, still on the job, eyes puffy and red, body operating in robotic mode, she said simply: "It will all be fine."
Sometimes we just need to trust a little more in that.
On the morning of April 13, I arrived at school earlier than usual, which is saying something. I arranged the room with the attention as that of a painter to an easel: desks stacked in the corners making the room seem quite spacious, front table cleaned and including a bucket of my favorite pencils , nostalgic yellow notepads and of course, as planned, an abounding arrangement of cookies and laffy-taffy. A colleague graciously granted me the use of her carpet squares, of which I arranged in an expansive circle. I pressed play on my "creative writing" list on itunes and let the musical stylings of Cloud Cult and the look of the newly transformed classroom send me to a hopeful place...projections of a productive day.
What continues to be an overwhelming sight for me, even after year four of education and it being April of this school year, is the spectacle of students who round the hallway corner after getting off the bus. The abrupt change of the once barren space between the walls to the growing boisterous voices of effervescent 8th graders always gives me the illusion of a heightening wave about to crash on the sandy shore. Today, just like any other day, the shore greets the crash with a "Good morning and thanks for coming!"
As the students designated to be in my room arrive, I try to read their faces to make an initial impression. Are they tired? Are they curious? Excited? The unfamiliar students politely sit in a circle, grabbing a cookie or two and a stack of laffy taffys on their way to their seats. The door closes. The show begins. The truth of the day only moments away.
We opened up the discussion with introductions of our names and why we like to write and perhaps some idiosyncrasies that make us who we are. I started out with saying that if I didn't write, I think I would burst into a million pieces and attested to the importance of stories. I discussed my insistence on the type of pencils I supplied and how once I get into the writing zone, few can distract me from the trance. As I passed the torch, the responses were so thoughtful I had to write them down, the first entries of my yellow notepad were the words of the insightful learners in our formed community.
"Writing offers up a whole new world for me, a world more fun than this one."
"Writing gives me an outlet, a place I can write it all down when I'm feeling overly emotional"
"Writing is an escape"
"Time can just slip away when I'm writing"
"I look at life like a movie trailer and write in cliff hangers"
"Nobody criticizes me there"
"It's where I can make the impossible possible."
"I want to carry a message, I want to create change with my words."
Wow. 7th and 8th graders. Some with whole novels written already. Some that think only in poetry. Some who excitedly shared their ideas generated in our session and some who responded to those ideas with enthusiasm and support. All of them with the greatest potential in the world.
For the students (and colleagues for that matter) whom I pass by daily and don't necessarily know their stories, I continue to be grateful for the opportunities that allow me to break barriers, for the moments that allow me to connect in meaningful ways. And in a world that can so often yield itself to communication breakdown in and outside of ourselves, to then be in an understood place, for any amount of time, could possibly be the greatest gift.
This blog inspires me to want to start writing again.
ReplyDeleteAwww that's awesome -- you definitely should write! (Perhaps your first entry could be about installing hardwood floors? :) ) Let me know when I can subscribe to your blog :)
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