Creative or…. not so much.
I have never been one to boast that I am a creative person. Nope, not me. Give me a knitting pattern, and some yarn and I can make you something beautiful. But writing out a beautiful pattern? Nothing that I’ve ever been able to do. But hearing it today being told back to me, after working my tail off just hurt. I’ve been trying so hard to make this stuff interesting to the kids. Maybe if I wasn’t exhausted, maybe if I hadn’t been trying with everything I have every day. Maybe if I didn’t get to have my flaws pointed out to me by myself and others constantly I’d take this better. Just once I’d like to hear my cooperating teacher say, you did a really good job today and not because I asked him. Utterly depressing.
I feel like a frustrated child. A frustrated student, and I’m asking for help. I thought this week went well and I don’t know if I should feel upset or happy at the moment. I don’t know if I can be in a profession where I constantly feel like I’m never achieving my best. I know understand how special education kids feel when they believe they FINALLY achieved something only to be shot down, one more time. I understand the frustration, if mine is only slight compared to theirs. I really wish my kids knew how hard I am trying, how hard most teachers are trying day to day.
I have a really bad feeling about next week. I feel like my students aren’t getting it, I feel like I’m giving it my all and it’s not good enough. I’ve been told for the past 22 years to stop being creative and play the school game. In a period where I’m going through an epic amount of stress, I don’t know if I can learn to play a new game at the moment. I’m scared.
I don’t know how to be creative, and it hurts. I like learning history, for history’s sake. I’m not an actor, I’m not a improviser, I’m a crappy story teller, and I don’t know where to begin to fix it. I want to fix myself. But not for me, I want to fix this for kids I BARELY KNOW. Kids that I don’t know if they care or not, but I really want that change. I feel like I’m hoping for change that can only happen after years of experience. Sometimes I think being a progressive teacher would be more rewarding, for me and the students, but being a traditional teacher might save my sanity. I hate feeling like everything I’m doing is wrong.
I’m trying to remember the laughs of the beginning of the week. A student using the word facetious constantly, listening to music with a few girls, joking around with the students. I need to remember the smiles to get through this feeling.
