It's been a long time, Weebly blog. My delay is a direct result of my reinvigorated efforts to teaching. After honest conversations with my principal about what I needed to improve on, I felt a near-tangible pressure to work harder in order to be renewed for next year.
However, my efforts fell short. Last Friday, I was informed by my principal that I will not be renewed for the next school year. While I was interested in experiencing another year of teaching in which I'd begin prepared rather than overwhelmed, such an opportunity will not come. This is, in all honesty, the first time I've experienced a considerable failure at anything in my short life. Yet I am not as downtrodden as you might expect. I am disappointed, sure, but not distraught.
This year has been the most hectic of my life. I walked into my middle school lacking any useful tools in managing a classroom, leading to a chaotic first few months. However, I was oddly encouraged by many who observed my room, which I believe led to a misguided mindset that not much is expected in a school such as the one I was and am still in. Then, in December and January, I improved mightily my management toolbox with the help of a coach, and suddenly I felt like I was making my first gains in this most pressing of professions.
But strangely, this is around the time I started getting hints that I was underperforming. The first came when I was criticized for my grade book, which I admit I devoted little effort or time to perhaps as a result of trying to figure out how to plan ten "engaging" lessons each week, or perhaps because I believe grades are not of vital importance at the middle school level.
Regardless, I recommitted to my grade book, dutifully entering hundreds of data points each week. In addition, at my principal's behest, I made a concerted effort to implement more protocols that fit our school's style. I also tried to find that elusive concoction that led to student engagement, despite still feeling overwhelmed by the plethora of tasks that a first-year teacher, in my opinion, is largely unequipped to undertake. No matter, I didn't complain. Instead, I wrote less as I worked tirelessly on teaching, and I saw perhaps a slight uptick in student-work completion and engagement. I also noticed that my enthusiasm, when high, led to a more rapt classroom. I did my best to maintain this, but in a school saturated with hardship, such a state was simply impossible on a daily basis (for me, at least).
Still, I felt I'd improved, but it was not enough. I have speculated excessively on the reasoning behind my principal's decision, but this blog is not the forum to express such musings. I have tried to remain as objective as possible throughout this post. I realize that the decision to non-renew me may have been made in December or January, when I confess I hadn't been very enthusiastic, when I hadn't entered many grades, and when I was still suffocating under the workload.
A person I know said to me after I told him the news, "Except in rare circumstances, no first-year teacher should be non-renewed." I tend to agree, but I also think that if an experienced English teacher takes my place next year, one who can bring so much more into my students' lives than I could, then my non-renewal is completely justified, and I have no qualms with this outcome.
Still, the ego in me finds it hard to accept it nonetheless.
Six months ago, if you had told me I would only teach one year, I would have thought it meant that I had quit (at the end of the year–I'd never do so in the middle), not because I wasn't asked back. But now, after feeling more confident in my teaching abilities, I know that had I been renewed, I would have continued to improve over the final fifteen months of my teaching career, and I regret that I'll never feel whatever that second year of teaching feels like.
I ask myself, knowing how this whole thing has turned out, if I still would have joined Teach for America, and my answer is a resounding yes. It's been a fascinating submersion into a system that I knew nothing about. Human nature, at its best and worst, has revealed itself more clearly to me than ever during this experience.
I know that failure is a necessity, that from it springs success, but it's difficult to accept this wholeheartedly at the moment. But I know in a few days or weeks I will.
Anyway, one love from your short-lived teacher, Mr. Londberg. (One thing I won't miss is hearing that pretentious title.)
*Clarification: A non-renewal means I will finish out the rest of this school year in my school, but I won't be asked back for the next school year.
However, my efforts fell short. Last Friday, I was informed by my principal that I will not be renewed for the next school year. While I was interested in experiencing another year of teaching in which I'd begin prepared rather than overwhelmed, such an opportunity will not come. This is, in all honesty, the first time I've experienced a considerable failure at anything in my short life. Yet I am not as downtrodden as you might expect. I am disappointed, sure, but not distraught.
This year has been the most hectic of my life. I walked into my middle school lacking any useful tools in managing a classroom, leading to a chaotic first few months. However, I was oddly encouraged by many who observed my room, which I believe led to a misguided mindset that not much is expected in a school such as the one I was and am still in. Then, in December and January, I improved mightily my management toolbox with the help of a coach, and suddenly I felt like I was making my first gains in this most pressing of professions.
But strangely, this is around the time I started getting hints that I was underperforming. The first came when I was criticized for my grade book, which I admit I devoted little effort or time to perhaps as a result of trying to figure out how to plan ten "engaging" lessons each week, or perhaps because I believe grades are not of vital importance at the middle school level.
Regardless, I recommitted to my grade book, dutifully entering hundreds of data points each week. In addition, at my principal's behest, I made a concerted effort to implement more protocols that fit our school's style. I also tried to find that elusive concoction that led to student engagement, despite still feeling overwhelmed by the plethora of tasks that a first-year teacher, in my opinion, is largely unequipped to undertake. No matter, I didn't complain. Instead, I wrote less as I worked tirelessly on teaching, and I saw perhaps a slight uptick in student-work completion and engagement. I also noticed that my enthusiasm, when high, led to a more rapt classroom. I did my best to maintain this, but in a school saturated with hardship, such a state was simply impossible on a daily basis (for me, at least).
Still, I felt I'd improved, but it was not enough. I have speculated excessively on the reasoning behind my principal's decision, but this blog is not the forum to express such musings. I have tried to remain as objective as possible throughout this post. I realize that the decision to non-renew me may have been made in December or January, when I confess I hadn't been very enthusiastic, when I hadn't entered many grades, and when I was still suffocating under the workload.
A person I know said to me after I told him the news, "Except in rare circumstances, no first-year teacher should be non-renewed." I tend to agree, but I also think that if an experienced English teacher takes my place next year, one who can bring so much more into my students' lives than I could, then my non-renewal is completely justified, and I have no qualms with this outcome.
Still, the ego in me finds it hard to accept it nonetheless.
Six months ago, if you had told me I would only teach one year, I would have thought it meant that I had quit (at the end of the year–I'd never do so in the middle), not because I wasn't asked back. But now, after feeling more confident in my teaching abilities, I know that had I been renewed, I would have continued to improve over the final fifteen months of my teaching career, and I regret that I'll never feel whatever that second year of teaching feels like.
I ask myself, knowing how this whole thing has turned out, if I still would have joined Teach for America, and my answer is a resounding yes. It's been a fascinating submersion into a system that I knew nothing about. Human nature, at its best and worst, has revealed itself more clearly to me than ever during this experience.
I know that failure is a necessity, that from it springs success, but it's difficult to accept this wholeheartedly at the moment. But I know in a few days or weeks I will.
Anyway, one love from your short-lived teacher, Mr. Londberg. (One thing I won't miss is hearing that pretentious title.)
*Clarification: A non-renewal means I will finish out the rest of this school year in my school, but I won't be asked back for the next school year.