Iām working on being a bit more myself at work, as being a completely different person in an environment with coworkers I donāt like for the majority of my day is rather torturous.
Anyways, Iāve had 2 instances where I let my inner toad out. The first did not go well. I had to talk to an admin. The second one just occurred and I feel much better about it.
Part of my teaching philosophy is treating the high schoolers I work with respect and giving them a taste of what their upcoming adulthood is like. I try to be honest about my own thoughts, beliefs, and feelings while stressing that I am just one person, like they are. And everyone is different. And they are allowed to be different from me. However, we always treat one another with respect and I lead by example. We say āyes maāamā and āno sirā and while we donāt raise hands to ask questions, we wait for an appropriate time within a lesson or conversation to politely interject. We establish early in year that I am not perfect and need breaks every now and then. During this time they are to respect my boundaries. In return, I respect their boundaries. Students often need brain breaks, and seem to have chronic bladder control issues at the same time. The school rule is bathroom breaks are limited to 10 minutes. I ask if they need a bathroom break or a break. I reward their honesty when they say the latter. They get 10 minutes to wander, however if I get any calls about disruption to other classes or they get brought back by security-well, break times over.
A senior asked to go to the bathroom. I say āYessir, thereās one right next door today, it shouldnāt take too long, right?ā Heās got a tendency to abuse the bathroom break rule with other teachers. Heās a bit difficult to get along with, especially if he feels disrespected. Which is often a lot as he is not traditionally respectful towards other teachers. In return, they treat him with a bit more strictness (for lack of better word) than I would. I understand his frustration, hence why I go above and beyond to make him feel welcome, seen, respected, and treated as equally as all other students. So I stop myself and rephrase the question, āOr do you need it to be a ten minute break?ā He says āYes maāam.ā
Great! Go on ahead, just remember, āI do need you back in 10 minutes, but take that time to do what you need to be ready for class again!ā
He leaves, we continue on.
10 minutes and probably 30 seconds later he comes back into the room, but Iām chill. I donāt mind a minute, but I do have to make sure pushing the time doesnāt become a habit. So he walks back in the room and I start screaming at the top of my lungs, again this is new behavior for me as Iām trying to let myself be a bit more authentic at work. So this poor child does not expect me to go āDO YOU KNOW HOW LONG YOUāVE BEEN GONE?! WEāVE BEEN WORRIED SICK. [untrue, I just happened to check my watch as he came back] ITS BEEN ALMOST ELEVEN MINUTES.ā
Dude is ready to fight immediately. (What does that say about the other adults in his life I wonder.)
Heās sputtering and before he can really get going, I say, āHey buddy, Iām just messing with you, itās ok, really.ā
We both laugh, he sits down and gets back to work.
Anyways, thereās nothing that (approx 80% of) older students hate more than being called out in front of everyone. Whether that be praise or a scolding. I used that āpublic scoldingā as a reinforcer to ensure he stays within his allotted time, but made sure to clear the air between us after so he knew I wasnāt going to take his privilege away.
I love teaching. I love my kids. I hate my coworkers, but adults suck anyways.
Thatās where this story should end. Thatās the end of me being myself. Or so I thought.
Whilst Iām yelling, another child slips out before I can give him the same spiel. He had asked to go to the bathroom a few minutes earlier and I told him to ask me again when X got back. Obviously he has a bit harder a time following the program. Itās to be expected. Heās only a freshman. Iāll talk to him when he gets back.
Thereās another teacher in the room with me, sheās with the class everyday whereas I am only with them every other day. Because of this (and my young age, and a serious lack of backbone, and a problem with my own self image) she has more authority in the classroom. Not ideal for co-teaching, but I understand how it happened.
Additionally, she is a tough pill for me to swallow.
This lovely tough pill was out of the classroom when all this went down. She came back to class approximately 8 minutes after the freshman went to the bathroom. I ask her āMrs. H, did you see our student in the hallway?ā
Immediately the entire class is being addressed with āNo, but I saw X out there about 15 minutes ago when he knows heās not allowed out. And he definitely shouldnāt be out while the freshman is out. They should both know they are not allowed to go to the bathroom/leave class/do anything without my permission.ā (readerās choice, I canāt remember exactly what she said, but yāall know what she was getting at).
The senior is mortified. Iām livid. I hold eye contact with her, allowing my surprise to show. Mouth open, eyebrows raised in shock. She did not just speak to me and my kids that way.
I wait two minutes. I calmly get up and call security asking for my student to be found and returned to class as he has exceeded the 10 minute window, thank you very much for your help sir, I appreciate it. I hang up.
I walk to her desk at the front of the room.
āI told X he was allowed to take a lap. He came back exactly 10 minutes later, as the school rule statesāā āYes, but heāā āIām not finished. The next time you implement a rule like that and expect it to be followed you need to inform me of it. I told him he could leave. He followed my directions. If you need to blame anyone, blame me. Tell me your expectations next time so I can ensure they are followed.ā
This exchange happened publicly, so that every student in that classroom would understand what it means to be an adult. So that they knew that there is a person in that school that has their back.
That my friends is me being myself.