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from Funk to Invincible


in-vin-ci-ble [in-vin-suh-buhl] adj. unable to be conquered

I detest feeling ‘vincible’ amidst a group of middle schoolers. My smile usually at the ready was hidden behind a façade of confidence as I faked my way through the day. Today, I lost the usually bright, energetic me. The funk pressed down more and more heavily as the day continued. By the afternoon, unwelcome tears were teasing and taunting; ready to show themselves as I let the weight of it all collapse on me. Still mired in the negativity, I knew the only way out is to reflect on my day, find the positive, and remind myself all that I love about teaching.

Only seven more school days until Christmas track out. The students remind me of it on a daily basis. We even have a countdown on the board complete with green and red to add to the festive spirit. All year I have known that come the end of the semester, four of my classes would be leaving me for another class as I welcomed in new students. As exciting as it is, goodbyes at the end of a school year are always bittersweet. Sitting here taking a moment to ponder, it would appear saying goodbye to a group of students in the middle of the year is going to be just as challenging. Already, I am identifying the many ways I could have taught my classes more effectively. It boils down to more academic writing. Why did it take me until their final writing assessment for me to see how weak it is? Why did it take so long for me to start talking to their other teachers to ask about their writing skills?

For the last nine weeks, my eighth grade students have been engaged in a Service Learning Project with three components: a research paper, community service, and a presentation. The presentation is tonight. Ever since they heard about the presentation, the boys have been excited about dressing up. Not just in a shirt and tie, but a SUIT! The girls, on the other hand, are discussing the dresses they will wear. Unfortunately, some of the boys spent more time talking about their suits than they did working on their project. The stress of procrastination was palpable. 


Fast-forward three hours

The invincible me is back! Within the first few well-dressed students walking through the door ready for their presentations, a smile was on my face. The grin they wore as they checked-in with me erased the funk that had been residing within. As the wall of display boards went up and the buzz of interaction filled the room, the stress of the project had caused disappeared. Students spoke confidently about the research they had done, social issues that need to be addressed. Parents impressed with what the students produced asked a myriad of questions. The joy of what it means to be a teacher surged through me.
    
Just three hours before, I was questioning myself. All it took to snap me out of it was watching my students believe in themselves and share their knowledge to those around them.

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