Why I Teach
What Now?!
It was only Thursday, but the week had stretched into eternity. I certainly did not know how I would make it through Friday. Not only had I taught my regular classes all week, I had various school-related activities every night. I was essentially working fourteen hour days all week.
The morning started out normal – arrive at school and get set up for the day. I taught from the first bell until 10am when my kids were meeting for our field trip. My advanced and intermediate orchestras were left with a sub who knew nothing about orchestra. Leaving the older children to run their own rehearsal is always dicey.
Lunch was too early, the kids complained. Unfortunately, the bus schedule for rehearsal mandated that we eat early. Lunch for me on this day is a banana because I am too busy supervising the kids to eat a real meal. As the bus pulled up, I passed out music stands for those that had forgotten theirs, checked dress code, and ensured everyone had their music and instrument. We struggled to load the three huge basses and the harp on the back of the bus. Finally, fifteen minutes late, we hit the road to Poteet where we would meet the other four hundred and fifty students rehearsing for tonight’s concert. As we enter the gym, I realize that we are nearly the last ones to arrive. My students scramble to find their seats and set up. Tuning complete, we begin rehearsing. I only conduct one of six pieces, so I spend a large amount of time watching my kids and wishing again that I had remembered my camera this year. Rehearsal is going fairly smoothly and it is my turn to conduct. The blister on my foot from running around like a madwoman is burning, but we make it through Soul Strings – the very last piece. The bus ride back is rather noisy because the kids are excited about the concert tonight. I would be too, if it were not for a headache building. The kids go back to their class and I teach the last period of the day.
The concert that night went very smoothly. The kids were very pleased with their performance and headed home with their families. Except one: Abi. While I was busy helping stack chairs and clean up, Abi and her family were standing there waiting for me to finish. After such a long day that was not yet the end of a long week, I really had no desire to talk to parents. Especially when I had no clue what they might want to talk about – my first thought was “What now?!” Abi had recently been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and was having a really hard time adjusting. She was struggling with having to go to the nurse to check her blood-sugar levels and how the kids made her feel like an outcast because of it. Abi’s mom said, “There are days that the only reason she comes to school is because she knows that she will get to see you when she walks into the orchestra room and gets to play her bass. Your class is the bright spot in her day.”
Not even a seventy hour work week, blisters, and a massive headache could spoil that moment. That is why I teach.
What Now?!
It was only Thursday, but the week had stretched into eternity. I certainly did not know how I would make it through Friday. Not only had I taught my regular classes all week, I had various school-related activities every night. I was essentially working fourteen hour days all week.
The morning started out normal – arrive at school and get set up for the day. I taught from the first bell until 10am when my kids were meeting for our field trip. My advanced and intermediate orchestras were left with a sub who knew nothing about orchestra. Leaving the older children to run their own rehearsal is always dicey.
Lunch was too early, the kids complained. Unfortunately, the bus schedule for rehearsal mandated that we eat early. Lunch for me on this day is a banana because I am too busy supervising the kids to eat a real meal. As the bus pulled up, I passed out music stands for those that had forgotten theirs, checked dress code, and ensured everyone had their music and instrument. We struggled to load the three huge basses and the harp on the back of the bus. Finally, fifteen minutes late, we hit the road to Poteet where we would meet the other four hundred and fifty students rehearsing for tonight’s concert. As we enter the gym, I realize that we are nearly the last ones to arrive. My students scramble to find their seats and set up. Tuning complete, we begin rehearsing. I only conduct one of six pieces, so I spend a large amount of time watching my kids and wishing again that I had remembered my camera this year. Rehearsal is going fairly smoothly and it is my turn to conduct. The blister on my foot from running around like a madwoman is burning, but we make it through Soul Strings – the very last piece. The bus ride back is rather noisy because the kids are excited about the concert tonight. I would be too, if it were not for a headache building. The kids go back to their class and I teach the last period of the day.
The concert that night went very smoothly. The kids were very pleased with their performance and headed home with their families. Except one: Abi. While I was busy helping stack chairs and clean up, Abi and her family were standing there waiting for me to finish. After such a long day that was not yet the end of a long week, I really had no desire to talk to parents. Especially when I had no clue what they might want to talk about – my first thought was “What now?!” Abi had recently been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and was having a really hard time adjusting. She was struggling with having to go to the nurse to check her blood-sugar levels and how the kids made her feel like an outcast because of it. Abi’s mom said, “There are days that the only reason she comes to school is because she knows that she will get to see you when she walks into the orchestra room and gets to play her bass. Your class is the bright spot in her day.”
Not even a seventy hour work week, blisters, and a massive headache could spoil that moment. That is why I teach.