Leading a Horse to Water

I keep finding myself in these teaching situations where I have to coax the young'uns into working. I have to throw some kind of carrot in front of them to get them to do what they walked in the door to do. It's an extra curricular drama class. No one forced them to come in the room. They came of their own free will. And yet, no one wants to be the first person to commit. No one wants to put in any effort because effort is not cool. As the teacher, they expect me to bring it all to their doorstep. Just push it through the mail slot, Teach. I'll pick it up when I am damn good and ready.

This is foreign to my experience. I was a nerd and only too eager to grab on to the lifeline that was thrown to me. Of course, my living situation was not as stressful as what some of these kids are going through. I trusted my lifeline. They don't have much trust at all, not even in themselves. Saying yes and stepping forward to claim an opportunity is much more difficult than entertaining a painful status quo.

Everytime I get frustrated I set myself down and remind myself of all the lifelines I have refused in the past six years. I have even refused the invitations to teach because I felt that I had very little to offer. So you tell me that all I need to do is give of myself and I will reach success? Well, what if my "self" is worthless? What if I am not enough? Failing will be painful. And yet teaching jobs kept coming to me and I could no longer push them away. I found myself faced with an opportunity I could no longer refuse, although I desperately wanted to. I still want to. I lay awake nights thinking about how I have failed these kids because I haven't gotten through. I keep searching for an end point- a place where I can feel some accomplishment. But the work never ends and that boulder just gets heavier and heavier while the hill seems much steeper than the last go round.

Yesterday I had a moment on the train with a couple of teenage boys. They were displaying their obnoxious rebellion in technicolor, swearing, laughing too loud and just being way too Eddie Haskell. At one point, one of them turns to the other and says, "You know what's cool? Smoking on the train!". The other boy agrees and they both pull out their packs and their lighters. I couldn't help myself.

"Oh, come on guys. Don't do it." They froze, surprised that I was not too intimidated to address them, "You aren't the only two people in here. Show some respect."

That is when the black woman behind them and the older gentleman on the other side got into the act. I sat back and watched the two of them talk to these boys. The woman was a nurse and the older man was a retired teacher. These two boys fell into a "yes, ma'am", "no, sir" posture that I didn't think existed anymore. They were kind, but firm and then they kicked a little ass. Of course, those boys got off the train in a snowstorm to smoke, but they didn't smoke on the train. I was on the train for two more stops and listened to the man tell his war stories from NYC high schools .

"There's a reason I quit teaching, you know." He said with a sigh, "In the 80's, I saw nine year olds smoking crack." He shook his head.

"Believe me, I know." said the nurse.

That is when I realized that I still see myself as a teenager. What teenager would value information from another teenager? I'm not having defiance or danger in my classroom, just sketpticism. What do I need to stretch for, Miss? I don't want to play no bad guy, Miss! Miss, this scene is boring. It takes too long. I empathize with them. I can see why five minutes of stretching makes them feel self-conscious about their bodies. I can see why someone would feel sensitive about having to play "the bad guy". I can also see why working on a scene that requires an actor to stretch their daily level of compassion to its limit would be "boring". Anything that you refuse to invest yourself in would be boring.

I'm struggling to find my voice as a teacher. I know that there are populations that respond more readily to me than others. I'm trying to learn, to adjust my style and my curriculum to better reach other kids while still not sacrificing the material. What I really have to learn is how to get them to meet me half way. I can't seem to convince these horses that they are thirsty. I need to temper my desire to reach them with the knowledge that not everyone is ready to be reached.

As much as I want to, I can't make them drink.