Sixth Grade is not for weinies...

I remember sixth grade. That was the year that I hung out with the 'popular crowd' in the tiny town we lived in in NW Kansas. That was the year I dumped some other friends who had taken in this new kid the year before and made her feel welcome. That was the year my mouth spoke some colorful words I was not raised to speak. That was a tough year.
And yet a refining year, looking back at it now. It took seventh grade to finish that particular process, but I learned some things about myself. I learned that I am not always respectful to every teacher. We had a Reading teacher, Mrs. Jones, who was a little 'off' for lack of a better word. Anytime someone kept sniffing, she would loudly exclaim, "Have a blow!" in her somewhat grating voice (something I would NOT say in my classroom today, by the way) indicating that we were to get a kleenex and blow our nose. So one day a 'petition' of sorts went around throughout the day, stating that promptly at 2 o'clock we that were in Reading at the time would begin to sniff. And repeatedly. Then, when Jones gave her annoying refrain, we would all get up and head to the kleenex box. I, of course, decided to place my John Hancock on this incriminating sheet, which was found, no less, in a trash can IN JONES' ROOM. Who the genius was that made that decision, I don't remember, but we were caught.
I also learned that I was not always respectful to other kids. I said some things about others that were rude. I know other things happened that year, too, but I don't remember all of them, and I don't want to go on and on.
Now I'm teaching sixth grade. I came back to 'the workforce' in order to get out of debt. If I was going to work full-time, I was going to do something I love. Something I have wanted to do my whole life. Something I use to play from as long as I can remember. So I came back to teaching. Now, when I first started teaching in 2000, I taught first grade. They didn't always wipe their noses, know how to get their pants zipped and buttoned, know how to tie their shoes, or that booger-eating wasn't acceptable. They loved their teacher, and cried when they got in trouble. Now, I'm not saying I was thrilled at all of this behavior, but now I'm facing emerging hormones, back-talking, tongue-clicking, cussing at students and teachers alike, theft, destruction of other's property, lying, apathy about grades and bad behavior, temper tantrums, kids that are taller/bigger than me, and I'm sure I'm forgetting some other things. I have never been talked to so rudely by someone 20+ years my junior. I have been discouraged over the future and prayed feverishly over my own children, hoping that they will never act like what I've seen or be hurt by kids such as I've encountered. I have cried. I have yelled. I have been silent. I have been depressed. I have whined. Boy, have I whined. But I have suffered through. And I have questioned whether or not I want to do this another year, or ever again. Yet I keep trying to see the good, respectful kids through all of the negative haze. I remember thinking at the first of the year after just a few bad incidents, "I wouldn't want Caitlyn to be in a class with bad students and be punished over and over again for their bad choices." In February, I had to attend the last of several days for new teachers. My prinicipal asked me to attend these at the beginning of the year, and I respectfully did as I was told, although begrudgingly. I'm not a brand new teacher, but I'll do what my boss tells me. Two of the other days throughout the year I missed because of being out of town and the flu. This last day I wanted to go because the author of a book on first year teaching was going to be there, and I was interested to see what all she was going to say. Plus, I was looking forward to not being in my classroom all day. The whole day was basically based on thinking through our vision and mission for teaching school. Now, at this point of the year (and week for that matter) was a very low point for me. I was seriously questionning whether or not to teach next year. I don't HAVE to teach. We could get money a different way. Why teach if I'm going to be treated the way I'm being treated by 11 and 12 year olds? I don't deserve it and it's not worth it. The whole day was great and inspiring for me. I was definitely at a fork, and needed some direction to make my decision. This day was, I believe, divinely appointed. The basic highlights for me:
*The speaker/facilitator (Ginger Tucker) talked about her grandkids and how unique and individual they are. Two of them are the ideal students every teacher wants in her class. They love school; they do their work and turn it in on time; they are caring to others; they respect and care about the teacher; they are wonderful. Caitlyn is just like this. She adores Mrs. Evans, her teacher. She loves school and wants to make us and teacher proud. So Ginger had me. I understood what she was saying about these kids, because that's my daughter! And then she took a meaningful breath and looked at all of us and said, "Teachers, don't forget about these kids. By this point in the year, it's easy to overlook the ones that never cause any ripples. But they still need your attention." And my heart sunk a little more than it already had. I was forgetting and overlooking the positive aspects in my classroom. We have some great students in our grade level, but the negative ones are so obvious and overshadowing. I reminded myself that I didn't want Caitlyn getting punished for others' bad behavior. And I shouldn't punish someone else's baby for others' bad choices.
*We had to think about why we came into teaching (something I think should be revisited every few years of teaching), and create a vision/mission statement. I did some crying that day. We ended the day by going around the room and sharing our statements. I cried the whole time I shared. This has been a tough year. I'm different than when I taught before. Now I'm a parent, and that brings a whole new perspective on things. I'm also older and seen a little more life. It's also way different than first grade. I also view this as temporary for a time. And at this point in the year, I had had some really tough situations to go through. I was being refined again through sixth grade, only this time I was the teacher. I decided to teach another year. After that? We'll see what happens next year. Lots of life is still to be lived. But I need to focus on the here and now. And for such a time as this, God has placed me here, with these kids, and I am to do my job to the best of my ability. I believe in teaching. I love doing it. And I have to remember my why:
My personal teaching mission is to create an environment in my classroom where every student feels valued, learning is contagious, and mistakes are viewed as learning opportunities; in a way that encourages learning, perseverance, and confidence; so that my students are successful now and in the future; because I believe that every child holds potential to do something great and meaningful.

Sixth grade is not for weinies. It can hurt. It can make you question yourself and what you thought you believed and held true to. But, like when I was a student, I hope I come out better on the other end of this year. Refinement hurts. But it brings out beauty.