One Of Those Days

Today was not my best day. Actually, Thursdays in general are tough. I begin and end my days with challenging classes and the ones in between aren’t always easy. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it bothers me. Today it bothered me. I felt like students not following directions and students being disrespectful was not part of a larger system or pattern of behavior but single-handedly my fault.

Today, I kept hearing professors and workshop presenters say that if kids are consistently “acting up” then it’s up to the teacher to change something in what he/she is doing—because the lessons must not be good enough or the rules not clear enough or the discipline not consistent enough.
And I kept thinking, “This must be my fault. Ms. X can keep them quiet. They seem to respect her. They must not respect me. Class must be boring. I guess I really am a boring music teacher.”

On other days, I hear professors and workshop presenters say that perfectly still silence does not always equal learning. I hear them affirming that kids learn through movement, discussion, and singing and I know that my classes are full of students with special needs and that students with special needs need special considerations. I know that I’m a reflective teacher. I know that I care about my kids. I know that my kids—at least most of them—know that I care about them. I know that what happens in my 40 minutes per week with my students is directly affected by what happens in their classrooms—that their classroom teacher’s discipline structure (or lack thereof) influences their behavior everywhere else in the school. I have watched this reality play out for 13 years.

But today wasn’t one of those days.

I know that I’m weary. I know that no amount of work seems to get me caught up with the stuff I need to do for school, church, or graduate school—not to mention the things that I want to do with my friends and family. I know that I am beyond burdened by some of my students’ lives. Kids are being exposed to perverted, harmful, and dangerous situations younger and younger and I just want to scream at a society that is so broken that on one hand it encourages children to believe that adults are stupid and that they are entitled to anything they want but on the other hand ignores children or treats them as disposable toys. I know that these factors contributed to the negative self talk that planted itself in my head this morning as I watched a challenging child roll onto the floor, put his arms in his shirt, and attempt to do the worm with the rest of his body while the rest of the class watched the distraction. Nothing could make him get up. Nothing could keep the rest of the class focused. And nothing could keep me from thinking, “Is this my fault? This must be my fault. I must not be strict enough.”

Last night, as I was anticipating this day, I updated the serenity prayer. I posted it in my status on Facebook, but I want to include it at the bottom of this note. Because maybe you aren’t a teacher, but maybe you work a job or have a family situation in which you sometimes feel helpless. Maybe you have tried the things you know to try but maybe they just aren’t working. And maybe your self-talk gets pretty negative, too, and maybe on days like today it leaves you feeling so very defeated. So maybe you need to rewrite this prayer for yourself. And maybe together if we keep praying, a loving, steady, just God will put all things in order—even if it’s only within our own minds, hearts, and souls.

God grant me the serenity to accept the students I cannot change;
The courage to influence those whom I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Teaching one lesson at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting disrespectful and overly talkative classes as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world full of broken people
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that You can and will make all things right
if I surrender to Love--
That I may be reasonably happy with my life's work
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.