Coming Up for Air

Yesterday, I cried. A lot. Every time I thought of how the day went, I cried. I felt that I had no control over the 22 little babes in my room. Even though 2/3 were doing what they were supposed to, one was slithering around on the floor... another yelling for people to stop looking at him... others pushing their desks into the desks of those who sit across from them. I also held two students back in two separate almost fights.

At the end of the day, I was exhausted. I had the worst headache I've had in a long time. And just because I have the (awful) habit of stepping on the scale every morning, I noticed I lost 3 pounds yesterday.

Stressed. Out.

Good thing though- I am surrounded by teachers. I am always encouraged and always inspired to do better, to keep trying, and have the privilege of seeing models of firm interactions.

Yesterday I was drowning and thinking over and over again, "I can't do this..."

But it was the support from other teachers in my life who helped to pull me up for some air. My principal offered me tissues to dry my eyes, teacher friends hugged me tight and reminded me of the good that I have to offer, and teachers in my building who spoke truth into the situations and told me to not take students' behavior personally or stress about it.

My sole desire is to make a difference in these students' lives. To teach them the right behaviors, to give them knowledge, to train them up in the way they should go. But we're going to do this taking baby steps... because these 7 year olds are really just babies. Their hearts are so delicate and waiting to be shaped and I want to do it well. And do it well for every student, not just the ones who sit respectively and engage in lessons. For the ones who stand on their chairs, for the ones who bang on their desks, for the ones who leave the classroom simply just because, for the ones who slither around on the floor like a snake and distract everyone from learning, for the ones who are so defiant... I want to touch their hearts and souls with a new truth, a new hope, and call them out to be better.

At least I know though that on my drowning days, someone from my support system is going to throw me a lifesaving ring and I'll be able to come up for some air. I may cry a lot these next few weeks, months or even the whole year and I know for certain that I can't do this... but what the truth of the situation really is, is that I can't do this alone...