Expectations from myself: I rarely feel like I’ve done enough or done things well enough. This is a personality flaw, and I’m sure some professionals with graduate credentials would have some stuff to say about it. It’s an interesting combination of imposter syndrome, guilt, and not understanding what “adequate” is. I didn’t prepare enough for a lesson; I could’ve used a better lesson format; I forgot to mention that one thing. I didn’t spend enough time on topic 4.6. I emphasized topic 4.2 too much.
Expectations from other adults: that I posted the schoology agendae, that I checked on understanding frequently enough, that I had them engage in the right amount of reflection on the right prompt, that they’re engaging in the material in meaningful ways, that I have a “do now” or an “exit ticket,” that I printed out that latest MUT form, that I have my keys, that I filled out my time off request properly, that I left the supplies in the correct classroom, that I remember to check my calendar, that I make it to yard supervision, that am strict enough in adhering to our policies, that I am lenient enough when the situation calls for leniency, that I took attendance, that I have my sub hours covered, that I reserved the room for the club I moderate, that I remember to go to said club meeting, sign off on the volunteer hours, that I log that email home about that one student, that I make it to the department meeting, that I make it to the other department meeting, that I filled out the survey, that I …
Expectations from my students: This one is, in many ways, the most intimidating and challenging. I realized fairly early on this year that almost universally, I think I have my students’ trust. I had many of them last year or the year before, so I have that history and rapport on which to build. I don’t fully understand why they give me their trust, though. I don’t feel like I earned it, I’m not sure I’m worthy of it, and it’s a heavy responsibility to carry. These are the expectations I most fear that I will fail in; they trust that I am guiding them through these classes as though I know what I’m doing and that it’ll all pay off. I feel this most acutely in AP Bio. Yes, I have what passes for subject-matter expertise in my subject (even if I did just teach myself signal transduction and the exact steps in oxidative phosphorylation this past fall), but they trust in my intelligence and that I will prepare them well for AP bio in a way that scares me. I want so desperately not to let them down.
It’s that responsibility of their trust that pushes me hardest. I want to do right by them, and I wonder if this results in some positive feedback cycle (Topic 4.6, AP Bio). In some ways, I feel like both sides in this relationship want to please the other side. They’re working incredibly hard; I’m putting everything I have into making this year go smoothly for them. I’ve adjusted my instructional and assessment styles every unit because of their feedback, explicit or otherwise. They’ve by and large gotten over the kvetching about reading the textbook and are now pushing themselves harder on that and vocabulary. I do more direct instruction, but they ask more questions during that, and it often leads to productive discussions (and the occasional tangent, but I can almost always bring the tangent back to the topic and make it work for my point).
I don’t know if it’s all from the purest of motivations; fear of failure is fine, but wanting to please is better. It’s a good mix of both for me; I’m not sure what it is on their end. I guess I just have to trust that all will be well.
The love and respect you have for the teaching profession, our students, these subjects, your colleagues, and our school is the key takeaway I have after reading this post…you are an incredible educator and we're lucky to have you!
Aw shucks 🙂
Wow, this post is so authentic and raw. It is amazing. Thank you for your trust in US — your colleagues and readers.
What you wrote resonates so strongly with me, it is pretty intense… I felt those very things a couple of weeks ago as I prepped to fill Miranda's very big shoes. The amount of time I spent thinking about and prepping for her class was ridiculous… overthink much?…
but as I sit with this post… it lands beyond the classroom. I honestly feel the same about my admin job. I worry all the time about missing a step, not giving information in time, not being the support person our team needs to do their jobs as well as possible in the best environment possible. Jen, Jess, and I have a code phrase for the feeling of when we fall short… we call it the 97% phenomenon… we plan something and forget that email, that order, whatever — you get the idea, the final detail(s) that would make the thing go better… we sigh and say "well 97%" and pick ourselves up and move on… It helps to laugh about it I guess.
We keep telling the students that they don't have to be perfect, which is true, because that fear can be paralyzing. We need to allow space for ourselves and colleagues to make mistakes, but at the same time, 97% success at O'Hare's control tower would be 20,561 crashed flights, and 97% accuracy in the post office would be 1.7 billion lost letters a year.
I don't know if I should laugh or cry… you are cracking me up