And She Cried All the Way Home

A mounting set of disappointments and frustrations led to my breaking down and crying on the subway and the bus this evening. My students were really not that bad today. Twenty-eight eleven year olds silently listened and followed along in their own books as I read a short story for twenty minutes. On the way out of the room, one of the smartest boys kindly said, “Ms. Petersen, you were reading too fast.” At that moment I realized that my shared reading was probably a failure, way over the heads of my ESL students. I also had to climb up and down the stairs to the back of the third floor four times within two hours, running to make it to my next class in the allotted three minute passing period. Then class 622 would not stop talking, once again, while I desperately tried to review the English alphabet to make sure that everyone had it. Several students were bored out of their minds while two or three still have no clue what’s going on. After school, while sweating profusely in the back of my humid, non-air conditioned classroom, I collated, stapled and cut papers for an hour. When I left, the only other people who were in the building were the assistant principal, the principal, and the custodial staff.
I had walked half way to the subway when I realized that I had left my keys to my apartment in my classroom. By this time every step was painful because of a sore I had developed on my leg earlier in the day. I then took a trip down to the TFA office because I had promised my students I would laminate the bookmarks that they made earlier this week and want to give them out tomorrow. The whole way there I thought about how much I would like to return to my apartment, rest my legs, and relax. Then I remember how I had crashed and burned in social studies early this morning and knew I needed to laminate and, more importantly, get some materials from the resource center at the office downtown. All the new teachers I saw there were just about as frazzled as I, a sure sign that this is the hardest job in the world.
As I left the office, still feeling sweaty, overwhelmed, and tired, the rain began to pour. My glasses streaked and the tears began. It felt good to let my frustrations out a bit. I am so thankful for so many things in my life right now, but I must be honest with myself and others and admit that I am having a hard time. I mean, I knew it would be hard – I just didn’t think it would be this hard. I guess the worst part is that I still feel like I have no clue what I’m doing, especially with my beginning ESL class. And teaching in Spanish – muy, muy difícil. I use all the wrong verb tenses and can’t think of the right vocabulary words when I need them. I know that most of it comes down to the fact that I am not as prepared as I should be when I enter the classroom. This is going to have to change.
After all my tears were shed, I called Ben just to say hello. He knew that I was having a rough time and, as always, was a great listener.
Tomorrow is a new day and I am ready to take it on – armed with better planning and some awesome music for class 622 (the iPod to the classroom – talk about music at your fingers), it will be a better day. And by the way, it really is OK to cry. It can be a really great thing sometimes.