I don't think anyone saw it coming. Even those of us who expected the worst kept a guarded sense of denial about how bad things were. Honestly, I had become comfortable with the idea of teaching for the next 30 years, like my mentor before me. It doesn't feel real yet.
I am grateful, however. Grateful for the chance to be apart of the lives of the students I was privileged to teach and lead. I told them that I became a teacher, not because I had to get a job, but because I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. I wanted to change lives in ways that mattered and lasted. I told them that I thought there were some things wrong with the public education system and I wanted to be a part of the solution.
Like math, life is not about finding the fastest route to the answer; but understanding the problem and discovering the best reconciliation. It's about becoming the solution by feeling your way through the inner-workings of the dilemma rather than memorizing some other guy's formula. It's about girding yourself with the courage to think independently in the face of uncertainty and, often times, an intimidating sense of inadequacy. It's about realizing that you can do more than you thought you could.
I think I may have reached one or two . . . about life, that is. I taught pre-algebra to 80 6th-graders this year. Most of them learned it. That's important, I guess. Still, at the end of each day, what gnaws at me is the question lying closer to the heart than the mind: Did I equip them with any tools to solve the heavier, self-deternining problems that many of them entered my class with? And, to be sure, the 11 and 12 year olds of today carry more on their backs than a child should. Way more than any child can.
I hope I lightened the load, even a little.
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