"Maybe I do love my job?" I thought.
I've repeatedly written here and said to friends that I don't love it.
And I don't, not like I immediately fell in love with the thrift store anyway--because I always love thrift stores. They are my home planet.
Children are not.
But... chatting with people is my natural language, and a lot-- A LOT-- of my job at the school falls into that category. I like that—I know people all over the building, besides the students—from the maintenance folks on ground floor to security at the entrance, to the other aides to the Statewide Teacher of the Year (he is outstanding).
bink has continuously pointed out that my mood is much improved since leaving the thrift store. But that’s got nothing to do with love.
Just yesterday I'd blogged it again--"I don't love this job". At work, eating lunch in the break room with my best work pal--Mr Librarian--I complained,
"I didn't realize this job would be so much emotional work!"
And he said, "That's a reflection of you. The students feel welcome to tell you about their lives. And also, it's the classes you're in. When I taught math, the opportunity to talk about personal lives didn't come up."
[Uh-huh, I thought. If I taught math we'd still be talking about our stuffed animals. "Let's find this bear's square root! What is Toy x Pi?"]
He continued, "If it's too much, next year you can set different boundaries. Listen, and then refer them to a counselor or caseworker."
Like the caseworker who told the student that her thoughtless words were legally actionable? Never.
But I take his point: this is not all on me.
And yes, I invite the emotional closeness.... also, I do like it.
Yesterday there was a special program in one of the classes--among other things students were invited to say some things they were happy or proud or grateful for, here near the end of the school year (June 14).
One kid said, "Now I know how to get into art school."
Omg—that was my doing!
His caseworker had told me, "Oh, I went over all that with him last semester---he's got unrealistic expectations of going to MCAD [expensive private art college where I had worked in the library], so I had him research other schools."
Fine. Smart. The student probably won't get into or be able to afford MCAD, true...
But I had already started to talk to the student about that college---because why not aim high? If that doesn't work, you're still going in the right direction.
Just a couple weeks ago, I'd printed out "How to Prepare a Portfolio for Art College Admission".
This kid started to work on it right away. The very next day he showed me a drawing of an "interior scene". He hadn’t known what that was---he doesn't come from an artistic/academic family.
He's a good beginning drawer. I don't know how good he could be.
Luckily, he's only a sophomore and has time to find that out—to learn, practice, get better.
Anyway, my point is, I was thrilled that he was so happy about the info I'd given him that he listed it first among his year's accomplishments.
How extremely gratifying it is that I was able to help a student with some thing he cares about deeply.
Maybe I do love my job. A little.
No comments:
Post a Comment