This has been a rough teaching semester. I have a big class with a lot of needs. They are high anxiety, highly emotional, and generally exhausting. I love them, but holy cow. There have been moments when I wasn't sure we were going to make it.
We are two weeks from the finish line, and we are teetering on the edge of full on melt down. I've had girls burst into tears in class, and my office hours have been hopping. As I was walking down to class yesterday, I saw a group of my students sitting on the floor in a side hallway, and I sat down with them. What happened over the next ten minutes was one of the most remarkable conversations about coping, life, and teaching. It was honest, and it was so very real.
As I sat there, I heard my own words and nearly laughed. W were talking about paths, and how very rarely can you say with certainty what you are and are not going to do in life--who you are going to be. Four years ago, when I started my doc program, the one thing I said I was definitely not going to do was teach teachers. As I sat there yesterday, talking with my preservice babies, I realized I was right where I was supposed to be. The one thing I said I was never going to do is exactly what I was meant to do. I love it, and I love them, and I am so very grateful for those ten minutes sitting in the hallway.
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