The Things They Don't Teach You

When I started student teaching, I realized very quickly that little I had learned sitting in my courses would translate to practical application.  This became even more evident when I got my first teaching job.  While I learned a lot in college, not much of it mattered in a seventh grade classroom.  That first year, I survived on instinct and with the help of a really awesome team.

I wasn't so surprised when I experienced this same phenomenon upon entering administration.  Although I had learned a lot in my classes, and much of it comes into play from time to time, it's the things they don't teach you that seem to come to the surface more often than not.  For example, one day last year, a stray dog snuck in at 7:00 with the boys coming for basketball practice.  I think I posted a quip about it on Facebook, and the fact that no textbook told me what to do when a stray dog walked into the building.  I know that example is trite, but it's true that handling that issue at 7:00 one morning wasn't something I'd necessarily been trained for.  The boys wanted to help the dog, but my mind was racing: What if it bites a kid?  What if it is carrying a disease?  It can handle the basketball team, but what will happen when the other 980 kids show up? The point is, new and unexpected situations arise every single day.  When it's a student issue, I know which route to take (and when I don't, I know who to call).  Lately, though, I have found myself encountering many new and unexpected situations with teachers.  And that's a whole 'nother beast.

Ask me any day of the year, and I'll tell you every time that public school teachers are the hardest working people on the planet.  You won't convince me otherwise.  I think one of the most important parts of my job is supporting the teachers on my campus because I believe that the way I treat my teachers impacts their performance in the classroom (it's not that I think my influence is that important, it's just that an unhappy, poorly supported teacher will have a hard time performing to his or her potential).  I believe that the teachers on my campus, many of whom were there when we opened our building - started from absolute scratch - know that I support them and believe in them.  Even when I have to sit down for a crucial conversation with someone about a performance issue, the way a situation was handled, or the like, I believe he or she knows my intention is to help grow them rather than scold them. 

This morning, I was at an off-campus meeting until about noon.  When I got back to school, I went straight to see a teacher who is expecting her first baby any day.  She had asked to meet with me yesterday afternoon, but a student issue prevented me from being available.  She just wanted me to know that she may have to sit more than normal because of the swelling in her legs and ankles.  She wanted to reassure me that her priority is her students, which I already knew.  I then went to see another pregnant teacher who was told yesterday evening that she is being assigned to bed rest - effective Friday - until her due date in June.  She was in tears over having to leave her students.  In what other business would you ever find people so dedicated to their clientele that they almost forget about their own health and well being? 

Later I stopped by to see a couple of teachers who teach our most high-needs, low-functioning special education students.  After a rough situation yesterday, I knew I needed to check in.  As soon as one of the teachers heard me ask how she was doing, she was instantly in tears.  She quickly recovered and said she was embarrassed for crying, but I told her not to be.  I knew that she needed to release some frustration, which is why I showed up to begin with.  Shortly thereafter, a teacher asked me to come see her about a conflict she'd had with another teacher (it was over something that was easily fixed, but it caused her stress nonetheless).   

When I got in my car this evening and had a few minutes to reflect before picking up the girls, it occurred to me that dealing with so many emotional situations had exhausted me ... and although I have a few years of admin experience under my belt now, nobody really "prepared" me for all of this.  I tell teachers often that the work we do is incredibly emotional: we are highly invested and take any failures very personally.  There is a reason we ended up in our line of work; if we weren't emotionally connected, we wouldn't be the right people for the job.  Going into this, though, I don't think I anticipated spending so much time working with (counseling, mentoring, whatever-you-want-to-call-it) adults.  I know that probably sounds silly and naive (and it is); it's just that the level of my potential for impact on teachers has been eye-opening to me.  I've found that the time and energy I've spent working with adults has really shaped who I am as an administrator. 

In dealing with and working through the situations nobody taught me how to handle, I'm discovering my own strengths, and hopefully encouraging some incredible teachers to stay the course, even when it's really tough.  That said, spring break is a week away ... thank goodness!