Dancing
This is a journal entry I wrote in Graduate School...(2003)
As teachers we are faced with the dilemma of how to separate our unforeseen personal tragedies from our professional duties in the classroom. The inadvertent lesson we learn through the social network of teaching is to diffuse our emotion and remain the sage on the stage. Investing our personalities into our classroom is the occupational hazard that good teachers risk to reach students in meaningful ways. Being a young teacher, I have not yet had enough practice in the careful dance we as teachers must perform each day, with our emotions and our ability to hide them amidst the public eye of the classroom.
My personal beliefs tell me that every experience is a chance to learn, the very reason I became a teacher. Davon, a four-year-old boy is dealing with his dad’s diagnosis of cancer. Davon attends a typical preschool in an urban area and was referred to my early intervention agency for behavioral concerns. His teachers described him as distracted and unattached to adults and peers, all occurring before his dad fell ill. After intervention began, Davon made great progress in his ability to attend to a task; in fact, he was able to enjoy an entire story read to the class. He called his teachers and peers by name and cooperatively played in the classroom. Davon genuinely enjoys the company of others, apologies for the progress report, occupational hazard. Although Davon has come along way, his teachers and I are afraid that his father’s illness and deterioration may cause him to loose the attachment that he so quickly gained. As a result, the teachers and the early intervention team have banded together to help Davon’s family through this difficult transition. We have read books for young children regarding illness and death with Davon. During these readings Davon asks a lot of questions but has yet to connect his experience to those in the books. Although Davon has not verbally connected his real life tragedy to our readings, his father reports that Davon comforts him after chemotherapy by “rubbing his belly”. As I travel this experience quietly with Davon I can’t help but feel a silent connectedness between us. I too am watching my father struggle with advanced lung cancer.
My ordeal has strengthened my understanding of Davon. I can step into Davon’s world and see what’s going to happen even though he does not. The fact that Davon is able to comfort his father in times of pain is our victory and helps ease the pain of watching my father leave life behind. Each life experience is meant to be and Davon and I are fortunate to pass through this difficult time together. All of my experiences through life have made me the teacher I am today. I find it impossible to separate my personal life from my teaching life. Parker Palmer, author of The Courage to Teach, states, “A good teacher must understand where personal and public meet… (Palmer 1998)”. This is the dance that we as teachers must perform each day we step into the classroom. The emotional state of a teacher is something unforeseen by students; yes some things are off limits, however; there are events in our lives that are too transcendental to hide. What we as teachers must realize is that when we allow these moments to penetrate our teaching, we are better able to understand our students in ways we never imagined.
As teachers and human beings we can use our personal experiences to connect to our students. We must not wear our hearts on our sleeves, but empathize with our students and allow them to be where they are emotionally. They come into our rooms with the same baggage that we are bogged down with and they need to know that it is okay to feel, it is healthy to feel, and that we learn from knowing what we feel. This is what I must do to be a good teacher. Our life experiences have created a unique sensitivity to certain circumstances and we must understand our students in order to teach them well. My personal life melds with my professional life to make up my whole person. The teacher that I am reflects the person I have become.
**My father passed away on September 23, 2003, one day after I wrote this journal entry
As teachers we are faced with the dilemma of how to separate our unforeseen personal tragedies from our professional duties in the classroom. The inadvertent lesson we learn through the social network of teaching is to diffuse our emotion and remain the sage on the stage. Investing our personalities into our classroom is the occupational hazard that good teachers risk to reach students in meaningful ways. Being a young teacher, I have not yet had enough practice in the careful dance we as teachers must perform each day, with our emotions and our ability to hide them amidst the public eye of the classroom.
My personal beliefs tell me that every experience is a chance to learn, the very reason I became a teacher. Davon, a four-year-old boy is dealing with his dad’s diagnosis of cancer. Davon attends a typical preschool in an urban area and was referred to my early intervention agency for behavioral concerns. His teachers described him as distracted and unattached to adults and peers, all occurring before his dad fell ill. After intervention began, Davon made great progress in his ability to attend to a task; in fact, he was able to enjoy an entire story read to the class. He called his teachers and peers by name and cooperatively played in the classroom. Davon genuinely enjoys the company of others, apologies for the progress report, occupational hazard. Although Davon has come along way, his teachers and I are afraid that his father’s illness and deterioration may cause him to loose the attachment that he so quickly gained. As a result, the teachers and the early intervention team have banded together to help Davon’s family through this difficult transition. We have read books for young children regarding illness and death with Davon. During these readings Davon asks a lot of questions but has yet to connect his experience to those in the books. Although Davon has not verbally connected his real life tragedy to our readings, his father reports that Davon comforts him after chemotherapy by “rubbing his belly”. As I travel this experience quietly with Davon I can’t help but feel a silent connectedness between us. I too am watching my father struggle with advanced lung cancer.
My ordeal has strengthened my understanding of Davon. I can step into Davon’s world and see what’s going to happen even though he does not. The fact that Davon is able to comfort his father in times of pain is our victory and helps ease the pain of watching my father leave life behind. Each life experience is meant to be and Davon and I are fortunate to pass through this difficult time together. All of my experiences through life have made me the teacher I am today. I find it impossible to separate my personal life from my teaching life. Parker Palmer, author of The Courage to Teach, states, “A good teacher must understand where personal and public meet… (Palmer 1998)”. This is the dance that we as teachers must perform each day we step into the classroom. The emotional state of a teacher is something unforeseen by students; yes some things are off limits, however; there are events in our lives that are too transcendental to hide. What we as teachers must realize is that when we allow these moments to penetrate our teaching, we are better able to understand our students in ways we never imagined.
As teachers and human beings we can use our personal experiences to connect to our students. We must not wear our hearts on our sleeves, but empathize with our students and allow them to be where they are emotionally. They come into our rooms with the same baggage that we are bogged down with and they need to know that it is okay to feel, it is healthy to feel, and that we learn from knowing what we feel. This is what I must do to be a good teacher. Our life experiences have created a unique sensitivity to certain circumstances and we must understand our students in order to teach them well. My personal life melds with my professional life to make up my whole person. The teacher that I am reflects the person I have become.
**My father passed away on September 23, 2003, one day after I wrote this journal entry
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