I’d say every day you are fair and respectful to students while trying your best to teach them is a good day.

On a side note, I just finished my adaptation of your introduction to graphing using your videos. I used it last year and I can’t wait to use it tomorrow. That was stellar work, Dan.

You’ve never had it so good, Dan.

I mean really. Four years from now – when you’re one of the technology specialists in your district – you’ll think back on these days often, glad you gave it all you had, and actually thankful for that “good tired” feeling you’ve likely become so accustomed to.

Teaching has got to be the most emotionally draining profession in the solar system. And the most worthwhile.

Hang in there, man.

Dan, I first want to wish you good health. It is much easier to continue to battle the ennui or angst that plagues challenging situations when healthy.

I agree with Michael’s comments that our full influence is rarely directly visable to us. The fact that you are not satisfied with your work is a sign that you are still commited to kaizen. It is important to have time for reflection and recuperation as you continuously seek improvement.

Get well, buck up and dive back into the challenges of meeting diverse needs of the kids in your class. I hope the first success that exceeds your expectations helps buoy your spirits.

@anyone who cares

What makes a good, no… a great day?

Sometimes I consider good days as those days where I’ve asked intelligible questions that allow students to discover a concept. A day different from the one-way street of knowledge. Specifically the days I get caught in the flow of one-way, boring, imposing, indifferent information which students usually dispose of as they leave my room.

Most of the times I concentrate on the bad. Like those test days where your pretty confident your students know the material and half the students fail. This is a crushing, shocking, where do I go from here, and what do I need to do different day. A day where all the hard work, planning, and efforts are returned to you as defective.

Is this my fault that I concentrate on the bad? Or is it what 5 years of college, sponsor teachers, mentors, and administrators have conditioned me to do?

“What can you improve?” A seemily harmless question which creeps into the brain to eat away the good feelings. The thought that makes you look for the weak and empower it. But does it make teachers improve or just promote a stressful and depressing environment?

I thought I’ve had many good days so far this year. We’ve had great discussions about math, some even student led. We understood the overlying concepts and practiced the specifics. Heck, we’ve even had quizzes where 95% of the students passed. Should these days still be classified as good when half the students fail the unit test?

My expectations are high. Kids should rise to them, right? I feel like I’m losing more students each week. What can I fix? Am I a defective teacher? How can I help students be successful? Is the ability of just thinking this way helping me? How can I change my lessons to encourage a successful environment for all? Is that environment even possible for a regents geometry class in which EVERY 10th grader is enrolled without choice or more importantly ability?

A good day is when I can actually answer these questions. No… that would be a great day.

I pray I have a great day very soon.

Just a correction – Jen is a second year math teacher. Her posts are often funny, but the situations she writes about are definitely not.

I hope you start feeling better soon.

— I’m stuck here trying to remember when, in my admissions interview for UC Davis’ school of education, did they ask me, “Are you ready to do it all just for the kids?” —

You didn’t.

And that’s the fallacy of “Children Come First” or whatever slogan people want to use that seems innocuous at first but really is used to bludgeon the adults into leaving or martyrdom or Erin Gruell-dom.

Here’s the thing — if we want our teachers to treat the kids with an ethic of care, we must treat our teachers with an ethic of care. We cannot treat the adults one way and expect them to treat the kids another way.

That means that someone at your school needs to be taking care of you — making sure you aren’t burning out, frustrated, exhausted. If no one is doing that, if the only answer is, “If you aren’t satisfied, try harder,” then you aren’t getting what you need.

The idea that schools are only about the kids is a problem because, as much as I am a proponent of student-centered learning, we have to do a better job of taking care of the adults because we are losing too many of our best young teachers. And we’re not losing them because they don’t like the job, we’re losing them because we aren’t creating pathways for them to feel good about their job without it coming at incredibly high cost.

Dina —

Yep.

To quote a young scholar:

“Because none of this intervention – I don’t think – makes any difference if you haven’t already asked your students, “How are you doing today?” But I dunno.”

I try to ask my teachers every day, “How are you doing today?” And then I try to make sure I can really listen to the answer.

It starts with that. It includes things like making sure the coffee pot is always hot. It includes things like making sure that when one more thing comes across the transom, that we ask, “Can we do this or is it too much?”

I means that I have to care about my teachers as people in as many ways as I can.

Careful, Dan – you’re on the way to burnout. Having been there, it wouldn’t be pretty for you or your wife. :-(

I’m teaching only half a timetable this year now that I’m E-Learning Staff Tutor at my school. I’m fairly sick of the politics, the ‘you can never do enough’ culture and fact that I don’t get paid enough for my wife to be able to stay at home and look after our son full-time.

As you say, in any other job where you worked as hard as the majority of us in the edublogosphere, you’d get a lot more perks and pay.

But then, it’s not about that. The reason I haven’t given up teaching and am in my fifth year is because of the students. They’re great. Indoctrinated with false gods about assessment and ‘real learning’, but great nonetheless.

You have to know your limits, Dan. It’s hard on a dark morning in November to haul yourself out of bed when you know you’ve got a ton of marking awaiting you at school, performance management forms to fill in, and parents wondering why little Jimmy didn’t do so well on his last test.

The work you’ve done so far is outstanding. You’ve proved your credentials – now’s the time to be able to sustain it, keep your mental and physical health, and focus on the important things in life outside school!

Dan, if you love what you do and you are doing what you love, then there shouldn’t be a problem. Money won’t buy you happiness or even rent it for very long. Yes, you’ve had to work hard to do all the things you do but, if you aren’t satisfied with what your return is, then maybe you need to reevaluate what it is you are doing. As you say,” I’m not burning out. I’m doing the most satisfying work of my career. No resistance from kids. Total support of my administration. Even my stubborn, recalcitrant department is making huge strides towards collaboration.” and you aren’t happy, then get out because it won’t get any better. To be a change agent, you have to be willing to put in those long hours, do the things others don’t/won’t do, question and push, learn, reflect and change because it is what you want to do. 20 years ago when I started, I hated the job but I put in a few more years. It took some twists of life for me to decide that making money wasn’t going to drive what I did.
Today, I spend quite a bit of time trying to create lessons that pull my students beyond the mundane, helping those who need help, questioning those who seek for easy answers and exploring a world that is bristling with activity. I differentiate for those who need it, track how the students are doing and try to make learning more than showing up and being spoken at. At the same time, I coach all year long, I sit on various committees, I work on different projects at the school and division level and all while leading a staff of 25 to embrace the changes that are taking place, dealing with the students who are having behavioural problems and doing the managing work needed to run a school plus supervising 6 new teachers and mentoring a new vice-principal. Are there days I feel tired and don’t leap out of bed to face what is coming? You bet. But, if I didn’t truly draw satisfaction from what I do each day, I’d be out in no time and employed the next day. I don’t wear any of what I do as a badge of honour or want someone to hand me a stupid superman cape because I usually don’t list the things I do as I’m not looking for any sympathy. I don’t complain about it because I chose to do it and I’m a big boy so I know what the ramifications will be for the decisions I make. There are times of frustration and days I want to walk away but that comes with any job.
I’m a husband and a father to 7, soon to be 8, children and try to attend as many different functions as I can. I’ve learned that quantity is not quality and moments around the supper table are as precious and vital as those expensive vacations to somewhere else – I’ve experienced both. It’s what you do with the time you spend with the people that makes all the difference.
There have been those who advise you to buck up and stick it out and take care of yourself or that administration isn’t doing their job if you aren’t being taken care of. For all that, you know what the costs are and what it takes so, make a decision and then, once made, get on with life. Too many people spend too much time bemoaning the fact that they work too hard and don’t get paid enough, not just teachers.
I wasn’t called to this profession either and didn’t get into it to save the world or be with children. I really didn’t expect to actually do any teaching. Today, after much hard work, long hours and dedication I am a good teacher, a good administrator and a great father and husband. But I chose this knowing all along what it was going to cost because I know what type of person I am and what I expect from myself.
A while back, you made some pretty interesting remarks about what kind of administrator I must be and we’ve traded jibes on various occasions. I’ve 20 years in this game and been in all types of classrooms and taught at a variety of grade levels. In the past five years, I haven’t taught the same subject twice but that doesn’t mean I don’t do my absolute best because that is what I would expect from someone else.
You know the price and you know what you will expect from yourself. Only you can decide if it is worth it. But, once you make that decision, then live with it and do what you are comfortable doing and will allow you to look in the mirror in the morning and be satisfied with the person looking back. If that isn’t happening, move on.

Dan – I guess it’s better to be shrewd than to be Schrute. :)

Dina – I don’t think your comment is tangential to Dan’s post at all (or at least not to this comment thread). And hazard pay? I seriously don’t see why we don’t fight for that more. We work in a bona fide petri dish and for $3.35 an hour.

Hazard pay indeed, laced with a dose of worker’s comp and a side of “Wow, I’m sure glad that freak with the switch-blade isn’t in my class.”

Just one more reason to head out to Philly and start working for Chris.