The Underlying Hurt
Teachers Plus magazine 2015 — My first paid writing piece ❤
It was one of those rare moments, when the entire class kept gloomily silent. A single victim stood with his head bowed, feeling everyone’s eyes upon him. The teacher’s voice rang through the classroom, scolding him. They wondered though, how could bouncing an eraser off the
blackboard warrant such angst?
It is a truth adults often disregard, but children can sense the underlying hurt, the emotions and atmosphere in the classroom which the teacher projects. To start with, no one really sets out to be a bad teacher. Surveys have proved most teachers to be exceedingly anxious about their credibility as a ‘good teacher’. With 40+ hours of work a week to contend with, statistics also show teachers to be some of the hardest working professionals in the world.
The class sees when you talk calmly to a superior child, while somewhat disregarding the mediocre one. Students notice when you pinpoint your fury on a back-bencher mercilessly in front of the whole class. They sense the underlying hurt in your behavior with the occurrence of a family
bereavement.
These are the times when teachers themselves are not in a great shape of mind to do their jobs. After all, life’s problems do not hit with a warning call. The death of a loved one, financial snags, familial issues are inevitable parts of life. Most teachers feel an added responsibility on themselves to not let their grief creep into the classroom and to ‘block the matter from the students’. This is the worst way to handle it.
‘When you are really going through a lot emotionally, you are not going to be the best version of yourself. You must come to terms with that and stop beating yourself up for not being a bubbling fountain of joy
every day for your students,’ says Angela Watson, a teaching counselor with 11 years of classroom experience. ‘This are an opportunity to recognize that you are not at your best, show yourself grace, and plan ahead in order to minimize the impact on your students.’
Take a moment to slow down and let your family and friends, your students help you out. You may share as much as you’re comfortable saying, but do have a talk with your students about what you’re going
through and that you aren’t at your best. Entrust them with more responsibilities, and they are likely to
relate and help you.
Angela recounts a fond experience. ‘I’ve gone through a couple of low-energy seasons in life and a bunch of my kids were fantastic about it. They’d help keep order in the classroom for me: “Hey, guys, be quiet,
Mrs. Watson doesn’t feel good, remember? Don’t make her shout!” Such stuff just makes your heart sing. Grab onto those moments and let them motivate you to keep going.’
Isn’t that a much simpler, healthier way to deal with the situation?
However, sometimes life isn’t the problem before you. It is your own perspective.
There is a way to spark rivalry between students, inducing a hurt which can make a child pose questions on his self-worth. When you need a quick job, someone reliable for the school play, a disciplined class monitor, or
just a helping hand — there’s always the easy option. The one impeccable student. Someone you’ve picked so often that he now arrogantly towers over his peers, crushing others down below who may still hold real talent. They will be left undiscovered, saddened that you never felt they
were good enough.
Unquestioningly, it will take you a lot more time, more effort, even trigger of impatience until you reach somewhere with such students. Though your decisions may seem small from an adult’s eyes, ponder over this from a child’s. These are opportunities they can treasure later, make memories, if only you present them the chance.
Many teachers like to purposely lengthen a painful moment in the bizarre hope that it would cure their behavior. It brings them nothing but pain, a shuddering fear of what everybody will think of them after this ridicule. Perhaps it would be kinder to take them aside, alone.
I recall a beautiful quote my French Sir once said, ‘Significant teaching doesn’t arrive without a significant relationship.’
It all comes down to the environment one is allowed to blossom or otherwise. It depends whether you can preserve a lightness and freshness; that children don’t go scurrying to their seats in fear the moment your arrival is announced.
In the end, no one can pin down teaching as an insignificant occupation. One decides how childhoods will be remembered. After all, it is certainly better to be remembered as a kind hearted guide than a bitter teacher with stabbing words. Everyone likes to be recounted fondly.
Wouldn’t you?
