It's ok. That’s my take away after an inspiring weekend of PD, networking, and learning alongside the best educators in the area. You would think it would be more profound, my lesson. Something bigger, deeper, world changing. But it's ok. One more time...it's ok.
It's ok to be an introvert.
That's how my experience this weekend began. Walking into a large room, having no clue where to sit, I was overwhelmed those first 20 minutes. But I sat at a table, come to find out, full of introverts. We discussed our fear of what the morning may bring. We are excited and professional educators, but icebreakers and dancing didn’t really do it for us. So when we were asked to get up and sing, and then to get up and move, to meet new people, while we were still just getting a clue for what the weekend would bring, I’m going to be honest- I was ready to leave. I love PD, I love learning, but I suffer from severe social anxiety. I didn’t know if I could handle it. I saw some familiar faces in the crowd, but even them I was afraid to approach. That's just how my mind works.
Flash Forward beyond an inspiring, yet overwhelming, breakfast to my first session. The Case for the Quiet Kids. A session about introverts. I was excited. I wanted to give ECET2 a chance; I had talked to friend the day before, asking if my introverted and shy nature would be able to survive a weekend like this. She said I could. So here I was, giving the experience a second chance.
Thanks to Chrissy Romano @theconnectededu, I was hooked. RIght away she shared her own feelings on the day. She was excited and engaged, but overwhelmed with the schedule. It was so nice to hear someone felt the same as I. I listened with interest to her classroom strategies for reaching out to introverts and shy kids, and learned a lot. But I also silently reflected upon myself. I thought about my introversion. My behaviors in my own building. And it clicked.
It's ok that I’m an introvert. I’m not a bad teacher because I don’t speak out at faculty meetings. It's ok to share a slide presentation on a new tool I'm using instead of standing up in front of a crowd and teaching in. I’m not a bad teacher because I still get embarrassed when another adult comes in my classroom. Just as I teach my introverted students that they are valued, I need to start valuing my own introversion. Small groups are where I prosper. I’m not any less of a teacher of a leader because I prefer helping others in the privacy of an empty classroom. Large crowds still scare me, make me break out in a rash. Conversations after meetings, or in the halls is where I have begun to explore my role as a teacher leader. That’s ok. It's ok.
It's ok to be a teacher.
This lesson came from an ah-ha moment during the ProAction cafe. The first group I sat down with was discussing how to get buy in from team members who are reluctant to new admin. I was curious so I sat in. As the conversation began, there was a veteran educator, whose name I sadly didn’t catch. She spoke about the constant change in admin she had dealt with and her frustration with constant new tech initiatives, which seemed to leave behind and discount veteran teachers. As the cafe continued, during round 3 I landed at a table with others who had discussed teacher leadership and teacher burnout. One told her story of her decision to leave her district and the fear that came with that move. Another discussed how teachers can and should serve as leaders. And it clicked for me so well in that moment, that the introvert shared her thoughts outloud! “It's ok to be a teacher.” It's ok to want to be a teacher the rest of your life.
In my building and district colleagues and supervisors have often asked me about when I was going to go back to school to be an admin. They joke that I won’t be around in the classroom for long, or that I would be better at their job than they are. And all of this I know comes from a place of respect. No one is saying I should leave the classroom; they are saying I would make a good leader (I point that I often disagree with btw).
But sitting at that table it clicked. It's ok to want to be a teacher the rest of my life. I’m only 24. Hell I don’t even have tenure yet! I have no idea what my future holds. I know my personal goals, but I’m also a realist and a cynic who understands our goals and dreams don’t always work out. But I would love to be considered a leader one day. We too often think though, that in order to be a leader we need a promotion, a new job title, and an office somewhere removed from kids.
But we can be leaders in our classroom. So many wonderful teachers I met this weekend are leaders. And they teach every day. They aren’t supervisors, principals, superintendents; they still impact change. Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be in administration. Someone has to do it, and many people are destined for it. It's how they’re wired. But I’m not wired that way. I’m wired to be a teacher. Of course that could change. I am young, I am still finding my way around this career. 20 years from now who knows where I’ll be. But for now, its ok. That's ok. I’m not any less of a teacher because of it.
It's ok to be proud of yourself and share with others.
I have tons of friends that are wonderful teachers. I work with some of the greatest teachers on this planet. And yet, I’m always so afraid to share my ideas, lessons, thoughts… Yes, part of this comes from my introversion, but more of it comes from my anxiety that if I share, I will be “tooting” my own horn. I will be selfish and others will think that I think that I’m better than them (anxiety can be a real bitch sometimes).
Over the last 2 days I watched and listened to wonderful educators share their stories their methods and their goals. And never, not once, did I say to myself “they think they’re hot stuff”. Yet that's always my fear when I share. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it's part of the culture we live in where everyone is competing. But in schools, where we all want the same person to win (our kids) what is there to compete against? Nothing.
I’m a cynic remember, so I’m not going to use this new realization to live with rose colored glasses. I know there will still be people who think those that share are doing it for personal benefit. But I know now that's not the case. We share to help others. We share to help our ideas grow, to support the ideas of others, and to connect these ideas to our universal goals. To educate our kids. To give them the tools to create a better future. That's what it comes down to. Nothing else. We aren’t in a race, the only prize is the better future we hope our students can bring. We will all benefit from that. So why are we afraid to be proud, to share? Pride isn’t a dirty word. We tell our students to be proud of themselves all the time. We should be proud of ourselves. That's ok. It's ok.
It's ok to want to quit and leave and cry all at the same time.
Teaching is hard. Teachers all know it. Most of the world knows it. Even if they will never admit to it. I loved that video that went around this summer, with the Target mom ranting about school supply lists. The people that don’t respect teachers couldn’t survive 10 minutes in a classroom with 28 11-year olds staring at them. I really is a crazy job.
And yet we love it. We do it everyday. Every morning at 7:40 I stand at my door with a smile and energy and a bag of tricks up my sleeve. I know I love teaching. I know most teachers love teaching. And yet some days, I want to run away and never come back.
In the days before ECET2 I read Aaron Hogan’s “Shattering the Perfect Teacher Myth”. I knew that I would feel overwhelmed this weekend. I knew part of me would feel inadequate. I wanted a reminder that there is no such thing as a perfect teacher. And though a wonderful book I highly recommend, it didn’t help much. I still felt overwhelmed. I went into Saturday morning wondering why they let me attend, even if I did ask my best friend nominate me. I’m not worth being here. I hate my job some days. Everyone here loves to teach. Every day.
WRONG. As I listened to the conversations (particularly those that happened during the down time, networking, and happy hour!) one thing was clear. For every day we love our job and couldn’t imagine anything else, we have a day where we want to quit, run, and never turn back. But we aren’t bad teachers because of that. In fact, that's what keeps our passion alive.
I attended a sessions on day 1 with Joseph Pizzo @ProfJPizzo on ELL students. I learned a lot from what he was saying. It was great, inspiring, made me want to start planning new lessons right way. But it was the following day, in a short unconference session where this same awesome educator who inspired me the day before, raised his voice over his frustration with testing in schools. He, like most of us, was upset with how the testing culture has altered our schools, beyond our usual complaints about testing time and anxiety. But sitting there, complaining about the system with other educators made me realize that some days we do want to walk away. We aren’t bad teachers because of it. We may be upset with a student, a parent email, a new building initiative, or yet another memo from the state. We get so angry and upset that we start thinking about other careers. I often joke about going back to Old Navy. Folding tshirt never got me this mad. But it also wasn’t my passion. I never beat myself up, cried in the car ride home, or sat in bed all weekend after a rough shift at the store. And yet with teaching, all of those things have happened, and continue to happen. But I’m not a bad teacher because of it. It's a byproduct of passion. We are passionate people. Some days I just want to scream. That's ok. It's ok.
There are so many other lessons I learned this weekend. So much more about myself and those around me that I want to consider, to reflect on, and to explore. I didn’t share much with others this weekend. I didn’t introduce myself to the people I’ve admired on twitter for months. I didn’t lead a session, sing with the crowd, or form a lifelong connection with anyone. But that's ok. It's ok.
We’re all still learning. We will all keep learning. I will keep learning.
It's ok to be an introvert.
That's how my experience this weekend began. Walking into a large room, having no clue where to sit, I was overwhelmed those first 20 minutes. But I sat at a table, come to find out, full of introverts. We discussed our fear of what the morning may bring. We are excited and professional educators, but icebreakers and dancing didn’t really do it for us. So when we were asked to get up and sing, and then to get up and move, to meet new people, while we were still just getting a clue for what the weekend would bring, I’m going to be honest- I was ready to leave. I love PD, I love learning, but I suffer from severe social anxiety. I didn’t know if I could handle it. I saw some familiar faces in the crowd, but even them I was afraid to approach. That's just how my mind works.
Flash Forward beyond an inspiring, yet overwhelming, breakfast to my first session. The Case for the Quiet Kids. A session about introverts. I was excited. I wanted to give ECET2 a chance; I had talked to friend the day before, asking if my introverted and shy nature would be able to survive a weekend like this. She said I could. So here I was, giving the experience a second chance.
Thanks to Chrissy Romano @theconnectededu, I was hooked. RIght away she shared her own feelings on the day. She was excited and engaged, but overwhelmed with the schedule. It was so nice to hear someone felt the same as I. I listened with interest to her classroom strategies for reaching out to introverts and shy kids, and learned a lot. But I also silently reflected upon myself. I thought about my introversion. My behaviors in my own building. And it clicked.
It's ok that I’m an introvert. I’m not a bad teacher because I don’t speak out at faculty meetings. It's ok to share a slide presentation on a new tool I'm using instead of standing up in front of a crowd and teaching in. I’m not a bad teacher because I still get embarrassed when another adult comes in my classroom. Just as I teach my introverted students that they are valued, I need to start valuing my own introversion. Small groups are where I prosper. I’m not any less of a teacher of a leader because I prefer helping others in the privacy of an empty classroom. Large crowds still scare me, make me break out in a rash. Conversations after meetings, or in the halls is where I have begun to explore my role as a teacher leader. That’s ok. It's ok.
It's ok to be a teacher.
This lesson came from an ah-ha moment during the ProAction cafe. The first group I sat down with was discussing how to get buy in from team members who are reluctant to new admin. I was curious so I sat in. As the conversation began, there was a veteran educator, whose name I sadly didn’t catch. She spoke about the constant change in admin she had dealt with and her frustration with constant new tech initiatives, which seemed to leave behind and discount veteran teachers. As the cafe continued, during round 3 I landed at a table with others who had discussed teacher leadership and teacher burnout. One told her story of her decision to leave her district and the fear that came with that move. Another discussed how teachers can and should serve as leaders. And it clicked for me so well in that moment, that the introvert shared her thoughts outloud! “It's ok to be a teacher.” It's ok to want to be a teacher the rest of your life.
In my building and district colleagues and supervisors have often asked me about when I was going to go back to school to be an admin. They joke that I won’t be around in the classroom for long, or that I would be better at their job than they are. And all of this I know comes from a place of respect. No one is saying I should leave the classroom; they are saying I would make a good leader (I point that I often disagree with btw).
But sitting at that table it clicked. It's ok to want to be a teacher the rest of my life. I’m only 24. Hell I don’t even have tenure yet! I have no idea what my future holds. I know my personal goals, but I’m also a realist and a cynic who understands our goals and dreams don’t always work out. But I would love to be considered a leader one day. We too often think though, that in order to be a leader we need a promotion, a new job title, and an office somewhere removed from kids.
But we can be leaders in our classroom. So many wonderful teachers I met this weekend are leaders. And they teach every day. They aren’t supervisors, principals, superintendents; they still impact change. Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be in administration. Someone has to do it, and many people are destined for it. It's how they’re wired. But I’m not wired that way. I’m wired to be a teacher. Of course that could change. I am young, I am still finding my way around this career. 20 years from now who knows where I’ll be. But for now, its ok. That's ok. I’m not any less of a teacher because of it.
It's ok to be proud of yourself and share with others.
I have tons of friends that are wonderful teachers. I work with some of the greatest teachers on this planet. And yet, I’m always so afraid to share my ideas, lessons, thoughts… Yes, part of this comes from my introversion, but more of it comes from my anxiety that if I share, I will be “tooting” my own horn. I will be selfish and others will think that I think that I’m better than them (anxiety can be a real bitch sometimes).
Over the last 2 days I watched and listened to wonderful educators share their stories their methods and their goals. And never, not once, did I say to myself “they think they’re hot stuff”. Yet that's always my fear when I share. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it's part of the culture we live in where everyone is competing. But in schools, where we all want the same person to win (our kids) what is there to compete against? Nothing.
I’m a cynic remember, so I’m not going to use this new realization to live with rose colored glasses. I know there will still be people who think those that share are doing it for personal benefit. But I know now that's not the case. We share to help others. We share to help our ideas grow, to support the ideas of others, and to connect these ideas to our universal goals. To educate our kids. To give them the tools to create a better future. That's what it comes down to. Nothing else. We aren’t in a race, the only prize is the better future we hope our students can bring. We will all benefit from that. So why are we afraid to be proud, to share? Pride isn’t a dirty word. We tell our students to be proud of themselves all the time. We should be proud of ourselves. That's ok. It's ok.
It's ok to want to quit and leave and cry all at the same time.
Teaching is hard. Teachers all know it. Most of the world knows it. Even if they will never admit to it. I loved that video that went around this summer, with the Target mom ranting about school supply lists. The people that don’t respect teachers couldn’t survive 10 minutes in a classroom with 28 11-year olds staring at them. I really is a crazy job.
And yet we love it. We do it everyday. Every morning at 7:40 I stand at my door with a smile and energy and a bag of tricks up my sleeve. I know I love teaching. I know most teachers love teaching. And yet some days, I want to run away and never come back.
In the days before ECET2 I read Aaron Hogan’s “Shattering the Perfect Teacher Myth”. I knew that I would feel overwhelmed this weekend. I knew part of me would feel inadequate. I wanted a reminder that there is no such thing as a perfect teacher. And though a wonderful book I highly recommend, it didn’t help much. I still felt overwhelmed. I went into Saturday morning wondering why they let me attend, even if I did ask my best friend nominate me. I’m not worth being here. I hate my job some days. Everyone here loves to teach. Every day.
WRONG. As I listened to the conversations (particularly those that happened during the down time, networking, and happy hour!) one thing was clear. For every day we love our job and couldn’t imagine anything else, we have a day where we want to quit, run, and never turn back. But we aren’t bad teachers because of that. In fact, that's what keeps our passion alive.
I attended a sessions on day 1 with Joseph Pizzo @ProfJPizzo on ELL students. I learned a lot from what he was saying. It was great, inspiring, made me want to start planning new lessons right way. But it was the following day, in a short unconference session where this same awesome educator who inspired me the day before, raised his voice over his frustration with testing in schools. He, like most of us, was upset with how the testing culture has altered our schools, beyond our usual complaints about testing time and anxiety. But sitting there, complaining about the system with other educators made me realize that some days we do want to walk away. We aren’t bad teachers because of it. We may be upset with a student, a parent email, a new building initiative, or yet another memo from the state. We get so angry and upset that we start thinking about other careers. I often joke about going back to Old Navy. Folding tshirt never got me this mad. But it also wasn’t my passion. I never beat myself up, cried in the car ride home, or sat in bed all weekend after a rough shift at the store. And yet with teaching, all of those things have happened, and continue to happen. But I’m not a bad teacher because of it. It's a byproduct of passion. We are passionate people. Some days I just want to scream. That's ok. It's ok.
There are so many other lessons I learned this weekend. So much more about myself and those around me that I want to consider, to reflect on, and to explore. I didn’t share much with others this weekend. I didn’t introduce myself to the people I’ve admired on twitter for months. I didn’t lead a session, sing with the crowd, or form a lifelong connection with anyone. But that's ok. It's ok.
We’re all still learning. We will all keep learning. I will keep learning.