C Student At Best

I used to be a great student.  Pointy pencils, crisp paper, hand in the air.  That was me.  I was the one put in charge when a teacher left the room and I loved to write the name of wrong doers on the board. I would stand at the front of the room, chalk in my hand, ready to write down any and all infractions.  I also used to be able to sit in a classroom and listen and take notes and learn.  I would learn a lot and get A’s, except in Math, and feel bright and confident.  I did my homework, I read the books assigned (all except Faulkner), and I even did extra credit for fun.  Yes, I used to be a great student.

I went to a seminar this summer that was eight hours long and six hours too long and had my first inkling that maybe I am no longer a good student.  I wished passionately and deliberately that they would just hurry up so we could go home. I took my time walking to the bathroom and took even more time walking back.  I zoned out, I doodled and I heavily sighed.  I chalked up this bad behavior to it being summer and it only being a seminar and not really school.  However, then I started my classes for my teaching certification and noticed this bad behavior following me.  I skimmed through the online classes and had to fight my urge to click “next page” without reading the current page.  I had to stop and remind myself that I like this material, I want to teach, and I am not in a rush.  I had hoped it would get better when I started my face-to-face meetings. Nope. I went to one and decided I’ll do the rest online.  To be fair, it was all day on a Saturday in a hotel banquet room.  All day.  I at least followed directions and was dressed in a business casual fashion, unlike my classmates who were bedecked in yoga pants, running shorts, and other slouchy attire.  I wanted to write their names on the board. However, this would have required engaging in conversation with them, so I refrained.

I was like the guy in the stripes.

We sat there a lot.  We listened too much.  We watched one great video and did one project together as a table that I commandeered because everyone else sat there scared. I believed the speaker when he said he would get us out early.  Ten minutes early is not worth teasing us with all day mister.  I am fortunate enough to be already working in a school and a lot of the information they gave us was common knowledge to me.  Again, I doodled, I zoned out and I heavily sighed. I watched the guy across from me furiously chomp his gum for hours.  I also watched him store that chewed gum in his shirt pocket and take it back out to eat later.  I made up stories about the people at my table; gum guy provided a lot of fodder.  I wanted to slap the other people who at ages 30, 40 and 50+ found it necessary to interrupt and ask questions that would only pertain to them.  So really, not only am I not a good student, I stink as a classmate too.  I know my face said “shut up” or “nice yoga pants” or “this is not Starbucks coffee”. I probably missed an opportunity to collaborate and engage with wonderful, future teachers.  Snort.

I had a moment of panic in that if I can’t be a good student, how will I be a good teacher?  I thought I must suffer through these meetings and force myself to look pleased, to not silently scream SHUT UP when the fifth person in a row asks the same question.  Slowly, as I sat there and doodled I came up with a plan.  I will take my classes online and I will do so in an environment that makes it feel like school to me.  Being on the kids’ computer and saying “I am doing school work” does not keep them from screaming “MOM” from downstairs.  I will study for my content test by taking my content to a quiet library and taking notes in my brand new spiral with my pointy pencils and two pens.  This is how I am a good student, this is how I will learn and this is how I will get certified.  And maybe I am no longer the good student that I used to be, but maybe knowing this will make me a better teacher.