Death by 1000 Paper Cuts

Teaching is a glorious profession.  Any of us inspired by Dead Poets Society or Stand and Deliver can tell you that there are (rare as they may be) moments when all the late night grading becomes worth it.  You really DO see the light come on in a student's eyes, and you know they understand something brand new for the first time.  We do, most of us,  have someone come back years later and say, "You were one of my favorites."  Yes.  Teaching rocks.

Actually BEING a teacher, on the other hand...now that is something else.

This is my 13th year of teaching middle school English, and I can genuinely say that this is my best year ever.  Part of it is the kids; part of it is me.  As the Rumi quote I wrote on my back board this morning says, "Yesterday, I was clever, so I wanted to change the world.   Today, I am wise, so I want to change myself."  I am a happier teacher this year than I've been sometimes in the past.  Even so, I still have to look for bright spots to keep me going.  Teaching middle school students, as a colleague and I once observed, is like "death by a thousand paper cuts."  It's not any, one, big issue that exhausts you during the course of a day.  It is the millions of questions you have to answer; the questions that students ask during class to try and steer you off topic; the student who wants to know an hour after the essays are turned in if you have them graded yet.

A few weeks ago, a student came up to me in the hallway and said, "Hey!  Guess what I did this weekend!"  I pasted on a smile, as I always do, and I asked them what they did.  It's not really the event or activity itself that is important to them.  Generally, students just want to tell me about eating too many donuts or watching all the Twilight movies in a row.  What they really want and need is what we are all looking for:  a connection with someone else.  It's an honor that it's me.  Whenever I forget that for a minute, God seems to snap me back into reality. 

What if I'm the only person they have to tell?  What if someone at home would just say, "Be quiet.  I'm watching TV."  What if it's worse?  Among all the other things I am called to do, I am called to listen.  Even when I really don't want to.  Even when I'm too tired or have troubles of my own.  I must listen, even when I feel like I will bleed to death from these cuts all day.  Teachers listen.