Will They Like Me, Will They Give Me a Second Thought: The Fears of a Loner Teacher (215)

This may sound like a pity party. It is not. In fact it is not a sad story. It is just a tale of becoming whole. I am quiet, a lot. I am introverted with flare. 

I have been to a few pity parties throughout my life. But, no. This is I hope, a story of seeing the rough edges and accepting that they sometimes leave scars. I believe in people- I believe in myself and I know I have a purpose.

But scars are starting points. 

They are tangible reminders of where we have come from. I do not hate my past. It has made me who I am. 

I know myself well and I have tried to be one of 'them' and you know what- the cost is high. I prefer to be alone, pure and simple. Sometimes I get lonely. But I am comfortable with it. I am comfortable with myself. 

This is a story about why teaching is my salvation. I am awkward because sometimes my filters over correct or falter. But, this is not something I am sad about. It's just a fact.

Things

There are things I look back on from my childhood that still haunt me a bit. Like the heavy chains of Jacob Marley, I hear them drag across the concrete constantly. Things like being bullied, being ignored, being misunderstood. There are other things, that to some might seem like a life-long struggle, but to me are actually gifts. They made me who I am. Things like Dyslexia, ADHD and yes, being bullied, being ignored, being misunderstood.

Someone asks me every year at a conference or PD- “How can you teach junior high, aren’t they just exhausting?” The answer I always give, “They are the freeze-frame of my life where everything came together for me. Where my heavy chains became less of a burden and more of a gift. I understand this age.” 

I recognize the look of utter terror as they enter the classroom, I can hear their inner dialogue, “Will this be the year they accept me? Will this be the class I meet a friend in?” They are my inner dialogue too.

I empathize with their fashion choices. I never did find my glamorous attire. I feel their shivering as people choose not to sit near them, anywhere but beside them. An all to familiar feeling, even today. There are students who elude confidence, they are energetic and ooze popularity, infecting everyone around them. Everyone wants to be in their orbit. That is not me, it was never me.

I became a teacher because I wanted to be someone students like me, students who ooze popularity and every student in between, could relate to. I wanted to not be the popular teacher, but the authentic teacher. The one that showed emotion, got frustrated and worked through it with the class, the one that shared her fears and doubts. The one whose heart was exposed.

I swore to always be honest and share my stories. This is the bridge to our community construction- openness and acceptance. This is me.

Stuff

I over nineteen years of teaching, have found my flow. Not every student likes me. Not every lesson goes as planned. Sometimes I push them too hard. Sometimes I do not challenge them enough. 

I make mistakes. But I always own up to them. In front of my class, I apologize, I ask for help, I collaborate with my students. This is what I never received as a student. My voice was shushed and ignored. When all I wanted was to be heard.

These things, these childhood chalk marks have followed me. I dust them off my shirt all the time. 

Not because of these experiences, but in spite of them, I am a loner teacher. Strong and confident. Flexible and forgiving. Mindful and steady. But, within my own world- a topsy-turvy, whimsical arena many prefer to steer clear of.

No one comes to visit me just to say hi. If my door opens, its official business. The only ones who stay after to chat are my students. When there is a luncheon or faculty meeting, I go back to that place of terror. The place where I feel I have no one to sit with. The visceral place where I will have to wander in the hopes, someone will include me in their conversation. I fear these gatherings.

I have a team, but they really do not get me. They just like my own teachers of the past had to do, tolerate me. They are kind and friendly. They smile, they are cordial. They are nothing but nice to me. But they do not actively seek me out to bounce ideas off of. They do not invite me to lunch. I do not begrudge them their space- I am a lot to take in. I get it. 

My mind is a constant tornado of intake- I talk fast, I ask lots of questions, I push the boundaries a bit. I exhaust people. During a hectic school day, we seek refuge and calm, not the rattlings and high energy of a tornado.

Most people do not stay near me long. 

New teachers join the staff and I think maybe, maybe this is the year I find a friend. But they gravitate towards those that ooze the vibe. That vibe I have never had. 

I have always related to my students more than my colleagues.  I cannot seem to get the proper stance, the comfortable pace, the eye contact (my ADHD hindrance) and the expected default setting of adulthood down. I tried. I really did.

Piles of It

Constant energy, It is me. Static electricity, magnetic force- just waiting to explode. It is often palpable.The changing lessons plans at the last moment. The ferocious reading and writing. The indelible need to try new things and take risks. I cannot seem to get a handle on my ‘fitting in” gene. 

It always takes me back to the same place.  My classroom, eating lunch alone, waiting for my next class to start. For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me. Why don’t people like me? I had many sleepless nights as a child and as an adult. Sometimes I still do. When I get shunned at work, it stings. Adults are not always good at hiding their dislike. It oozes too. I know, I can see the stains on my clothes.

Make Your Mark

So, the school year is beginning and if you are anything like me, you have at least a few worries. The pandemic, the schedule, the first day you meet your students. I hope that is all. I hope you are not a loner teacher. Get out there and mingle. Join in conversations. Network. You might ooze popularity, or you might need a little confidence. But you have it in you to find your tribe. Your community.

I know I will never truly fit in. How do I know? Nineteen years of teaching. Nearly 51 years of perspective and reflection. I mingle. I follow my team into luncheons and faculty meetings sometimes, desperately hoping they will include me in their conversation. I try to sit still and be still.

But, some days, most days- I am exhausted. Trying to behave as others expect, slowing my mind and energy so others feel more comfortable, and yes, seeking recognition and acceptance is too much. I choose to not have to.

I am alright with this. I have thick skin now. I no longer drag the chains behind me. Sometimes they rattle. But I choose to funnel my energy to where it belongs, in my classroom, interacting with my students. I choose to be excited about the possibility of a conversation- yet accepting that most days these will be with my students. I love those the best.

The Mingle Before the Solitude

I am a loner teacher, my personality and all of these ‘things’ have paved that path. I grab a bus with my colleagues every now and then, I call an Uber when its necessary- but I know molding myself to what others expect never ends well. I will stay true to myself, I will listen to my spirit. It has never steered me wrong. I will sit beside like-minded people, have brief conversations, try to be comfortable in their world. It is a fun place to visit.

Then I will be still. Let the energy of my students guide me. I will use my gifts of observation, listening and problem-solving to enhance learning. I will smile every day for the joy that surrounds me. 

I became a teacher to change outlooks and mindsets. To lure the quiet, lonely students out of the shadows. To build relationships that shape and inspire. To be a teacher they see themselves in. To be a teacher they respond to and trust.

This is the life of this teacher. 

This is not a tragedy, this is a story of adversity and acceptance. This is a story of focus and reflection. This is my story and my quest. My fears that push forth- this time of year. But alas it is my journey, my adventure and all the things that make me, me. And that my friends, is my greatest gift. 

I just feel there are many people, many educators, many students who feel this way. I wanted to share my story so hopefully, you will share yours. This my friends is not a pity party but a roaring, energetic, celebratory hootenanny- what will be your legacy?