Swimmin' Upstream

Teaching English wasn't my first career choice.  When I was in junior high, I was sure I'd be an endocrinologist and work with kids who had diabetes like me. By the time I was a sophomore, I decided I wanted to be a lawyer.  But as college loomed and reality set in, I was lucky enough to have Mr. Kubik, a pretty great teacher who made government class my favorite subject of the day.  I had several great teachers growing up, but his ability to make stale, boring facts seem somehow relevant in my world of  big bangs, Bon Jovi, and cruising Norfolk's main street is still pretty impressive (it was 1991, by the way).  He inspired me.  Made me think that teaching was a profession that could make a difference. I'm still glad he did.  

While this hasn't always been the case, the main focus of my classes is British literature.  For those of you who have forgotten, that's a whole lotta' big books written by a bunch of old dead white guys.  Fabulous big books, and amazing old dead white guys, but not exactly on the radar of the typical 18-year-old.  Two weeks ago, I had a parent tell me that kids are too busy to be reading books outside of school.  "These kids just don't have time with work, community service, school activities, and getting ready for college," she said.   She basically told me that I can assign anything I want, but that kids today simply don't have time to do it.  

I've been thinking about that statement a lot since then.  Also, the frustration I hear from some of my excellent middle school colleagues who say that they can't assign work outside of class and expect students to do it. Several teachers at the high school level say the same thing.   I know I'm not the first parent or educator to wrestle with these issues, but as I think about creating deeper roots of knowledge and experience for my students, I am faced with the fact that the 47 minutes I have been given with my students each day is simply not enough time to do all that I am expected to do to prepare them for what comes next.  My students have to do work outside of class.  Not copious amounts of work.  Not busy work.  Not work without meaning.  But work outside of class.  They have to read.  They have to write.  They have to write about their experiences and write about what they read.  

And what do I have to do?  I have to figure out how to do what  I saw Mr. Kubik accomplish every day.  I have to make it all seem relevant.  Purposeful. Important.  Exciting even. Some days, I get close. Others, not so much.  The only thing I know for sure is that I'm not  giving up,  even if it means I'm swimming upstream with a whole bunch of old dead white guys on my back.