Let the Journey begin!

I’ve always said that if teachers were to write all their stories down and publish them, they would be rich. Of all the things I’ve seen and heard and all the teachers I’ve worked alongside, one thing rings true: teachers are the most amazing breed of humans on the planet.

I want to invite you to join me in a teacher’s journey that will hopefully make you laugh and inspire you. This journey is not only mine, however—it’s yours, your students’, and every teacher you may have worked with. So, grab a cup of coffee, pull up a chair, and get comfortable. Join me on this journey of the warrior’s heart within the educator. This story belongs to you.

Miners or Loggers

I remember my first day as a new teacher. “Terrifying” pretty much sums it up. I woke up early—so early in fact, that I could have arrived two hours early if I had wanted. I didn’t sleep much that night, just tossed and turned from a restlessness I couldn’t shake. I lay awake for hours waiting for my alarm clock to go off. Not wanting to be late, I got myself ready and headed out the door, coffee in hand.

I’d planned to leave in plenty of time to get to school but didn’t take into account the coal trucks and logging trucks I would get stuck behind. Or the school zone signs. I had traversed the road I would drive for my commute to work, but I had not traveled it during the morning bus route.  Somehow the little neon sign had slipped past my awareness which is to signal that school is in session and loading children. 

The next thing I remember, there were flashing lights behind me. Oh, Lord, please don’t let me be late, I sighed both a prayer and an exhale of nervous energy all at the same time as I waited for the officer to approach me. Mortified, I explained to him that it was my first day at Glade Middle School, hoping he would have even the slightest compassion for me and not make me any later than I already was. He was kind—however, I still got a ticket, and I was still late. My first day as a teacher and before I even make it to school, I’m pulled over for blowing through a school zone! Oh, the irony, (and what a great lesson in irony it would be I might add). I would much rather have gotten a ticket than be late for my first day.

At long last, I arrived at the school.  I had left myself plenty of time to arrive early.  Though I wasn’t late by school arrival standards, there were still things to prepare before greeting my new students. It’s important to note here that I was hired THE DAY before school started, which of course only added to the excitement of my first professional teaching job. I was given a week to pack, find a new place, move from Fairmont, WV, to Nicholas Co., get settled, and prepare for my first day as a professional teacher. After this crazy morning, I really was a nervous wreck. But as the saying goes, the show must go on, right? 

I greeted my class and introduced myself to my wide-eyed and eager students, who’d been waiting to meet me for a week. I asked them to share about themselves and their town of Cowen. As the day went on, I was told many things. Such as, the school had a new key fob entry, to what parts of town I should stay away from because of drugs in the area. (Yes, the students really did share this, IN CLASS).

The last class of the day arrived, and I began my routine introduction. That’s when one student spoke up, “Well, here in Cowen, you’re only one of two things: a miner or a logger.” Not sure how to respond to this, I moved on. Being quick on my feet was a skill I hadn’t developed yet. 

But that afternoon, my thoughts went back to that comment and to my drive up the winding curves of the mountain, stuck behind the log and coal trucks. What did I have to offer these kids? What hope could I give them for the future? What difference could I make in their lives? As the days continued, I saw many of my 7^th grade students were totally checked out. It was disheartening and alarming that so many, at such a young age, had already decided an education couldn’t do anything for them.

I began to feel this task of simply teaching reading was a huge impossibility. These children I was paid to teach were not soliciting the knowledge I was so eager to impart. (Welcome to the world of teaching!) If logging and mining were the only options for these kids’ futures, what did my meager reading class matter to them? I can quote the usual saying “A book can take you anywhere you want to go.” Or “You have to be able to read your welfare application in order to fill it out.” But it can still feel like I’m not making a difference in the lives of my students. 

You may feel like this too. You often don’t see the impact you make with your students—yet you do make an impact. We don’t have the ability to select our students’ choices for them, whether they graduate, go to college, or even complete their homework. Yet we’re providing options for their future each and every day. One boy may have decided being a logger or miner were his only options, but others decided to take the third option and get an education. One of my students from my first year of teaching not only graduated from college but is back in Cowen teaching high school.

You see, whether or not our students choose the education we provide, we are providing choices for them every day with the level of instruction we are giving them. Teachers increase their students’ quality of life. You, dear teacher, make a difference, even if it’s only to give your students options. You help mold our communities’ children into our leaders, workers, mothers, and fathers. You are the ones who shape a nation and determine its course. Somewhere along the way, we’ve forgotten the importance of what an education does for a community and a nation. It is of the highest importance if you want to affect change. In fact, Hitler’s first step in his plan to overtake the world was to control information by burning books. 

You may feel undervalued and underappreciated for what you do, but don’t be discouraged. Instead, call out the value in the educators around you as well as yourself. We must remember that we are not alone in our fight for our kids and the tomorrow they walk into. We’ve been so busy fighting alone that we’ve lost sight of the brave soldiers fighting next to us. We need one another. Let’s start by seeing the value in each other and what we have to offer this up-and-coming generation. 

In 14 years of education, I’ve learned teaching is not for the faint of heart. It’s for the heart of a warrior. We fight for our kids, for their education, for their future, for options that provide a better life, and for their very safety. You are warriors—not glorified babysitters.  Ecclesiastes says, “There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven … a time for war and a time for peace.” This dear educator, is a time for war!

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