In some cruel coincidence of the darkest of forces, our school's standardized testing week coincided with Teacher Depreciation, oops-I-meant Appreciation Week.
The test, THE test, that our kids take in order to evaluate the teachers, happened this week. Can I tell you something that makes me sad? It makes me sad that six and seven-year-old children have the pressure and weight on their shoulders to perform on a computerized test for around forty-five minutes to gauge how well their teacher taught them for around 10 months. It makes me sad that in the last few months, I had to make decisions on what to teach my kids, not based on what I thought they would love to learn about or things I thought that six and seven-year-olds should know, but based on what will help them do well on this test. I was consistently put in a position of asking myself: Should I teach my class based on what's best for kids to learn? Or should I teach my class based on what's best for this test we have to take? More often than not, like most teachers, I settled for somewhere in the middle: I gave them tools to succeed on the test, hiding skills and supplementing here and there so they didn't feel the pressure of it. I couldn't live with myself and give in completely to test prep mode. It's an unfortunate situation we have put our teachers into, particularly our teachers in low-income communities. It's unfortunate that this situation also affects the students who need the most support in the most unfortunate ways. Ha. I say the word: unfortunate. As if it's unlucky, a random force over which we have no control. (Except that real people make decisions about these tests, teacher evaluation practices, curriculum choices, and support services for kids, every single day.)
Yet here we were. Taking The Test. On Teacher Appreciation Week. That too, was tough. Each day I scrolled through pictures of my teacher friends who were rolling in gift cards from Chili's, trinkets, and handmade cards from their kids. It was a little different for me. No Chili's gift cards happened, I can tell you that. This week, one of my kids said he wanted to shoot me. I had a lot of attitude, rolling eyes, and defiance coming in my direction this week.
I say this not to complain, but to make the one thing that happened on Friday all the sweeter.
Here I thought: "This week is it. I am done. I can't come back on Monday, and I won't be able to come back the day after that. I just can't do it anymore."
That's what God does, doesn't he? Right when you believe that you can't handle it anymore, he gives you grace.
This Friday, after school, after Teacher Appreciation Week had technically expired, my grace came through a mother picking up her child, who handed me an envelope through the window. It wasn't accompanied by a gift card, a potted plant, or balloon. It was just a card, but it said this inside:
"Often teachers are unappreciated and not recognized for the work they do. Please know that not only do I appreciate you but thank you for all the work you've done with my child and all the other students you work with. You have encouraged her in so many ways and we're so blessed to have experienced your ability to help the mind grow. Teachers are blessings and thank you for being ours. The best statement you said to my daughter was, "I wish I had a classroom full of students like you." She loved that and will never forget it."
That was all I needed. In spite of feeling defeated and kicked while I was down, I know that one mother and one very sweet girl noticed and cared and are thankful that I'm in their lives. I know that one girl knows and will remember that she is smart. And that she is loved.
And after a week from you-know-where, that was pretty great.
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