My last set of grades are turned in, I have to meet someone to go over one last set of paperwork, and then I'll be officially retired at the end of August. Forty-two years is a long time to teach, but I can remember clearly my first day as a teacher. I think I had more butterflies than my future students that morning. Something saved me, though. This is that story.
My first teaching position was that of a fifth grade teacher for an entire rural town whose only big industry was a gravel pit. The town was surrounded by farming country and it was 40 miles from where I lived. Teaching jobs were hard to come by then as there was a surplus of teachers. There were actually five of us making the commute, so I only had to drive one day of the week. The rides to school were usually quiet as we had to leave so early to get there by 7:30. We saw many a sunrise as we headed east out of town to our destination, and were always glad when we got to turn north so the sun was to our side instead of in our eyes.
I don't actually remember much about the ride to school that day. I know I didn't drive as my day wasn't Monday. We'd been coming the week before getting everything ready, and as you looked at the front of the two-story, red brick building built in the early 1890's, I occupied the upper right corner room. Across the hall was the sixth grade, with the reading room, an empty classroom, the art room and the library on the same floor. Grades K-4 were on the first floor and the basement held locker rooms complete with showers and a large gymnasium. As most buildings of that age, it had originally been the town's high school.
The building was so old it had steam generated heat. I'd chosen to put up colored burlap on the bulletin boards in fall colors, and had decorated the room with live flowers in pots on the large windowsills. I had geraniums, ferns and a cactus that actually bloomed each winter I taught there. The warmth and moisture from the heater was amazing. Each desk had a 3-D name=tag attached as I anxiously awaited my students.
The night before the first day I could hardly eat or sleep. My stomach was tied in knots with worrying about whether or not I could really be the teacher I wanted to be. I knew I was going to have 32 fifth graders and I knew from one of the other teachers whose son I was to have that they had fired the fourth grade teacher from the year before for incompetence. That was scary, but I really didn't realize all of the ramifications from that until the year got underway, but that's another story or two.
The town was quite hilly, and the school was actually built on top of one of the hills. Thee were two sets of steps leading to the front door, and it was the town's tradition that the students lined up single file in the front of the door, which meant that the line snaked down all of the steps and continued down the hill along the sidewalk. Even looking out the window right before the bell rang you couldn't see all of the kids. The line just went on and on.
It was that line that saved me. You see, I'm the oldest of five kids, so have always had younger ones in the family, and I took care of them and babysat for others a lot. When I looked out that window, what I saw were "just kids." That sight calmed the butterflies, I stood there gazing at the line and they just went away. I've always been glad I had those fifteen minutes before my students entered the room. They gave me the opportunity to cross the line in my head and heart taking me into my future as a teacher.
The last 32 years of my teaching career, I've been involved in teacher education. Oftentimes when I work with student teachers I'll relate this story. It's important to picture yourself in the role you've worked hard to acquire, and understanding that the students in your classroom are amazing individuals who will give you opportunities to grow as you in turn assist them as they learn and grow. Visualize yourself as the teacher you want to be, and you'll be a step closer to becoming that person.
