This photo of me was taken recently by a student photographer in our classroom. I am fascinated by my students' photography: What they choose as their subjects, their literal perspective, the fact that their work is almost always blurry from the perpetual movement of their bodies. In this way, their photography not only serves as an opportunity for student reflection. It is also enormously helpful and informative to my practice as their teacher. What is important to them? What do they see? How do they see it?
I see a lot of things in this photo. I see my comfortable, colorful clothes. In fact, I had dinner with some friends later this very night, and we laughed at the way I was wearing just about every color of the rainbow. "What can I say?" I'd shrugged happily. "I'm a preschool teacher!" I see the soft lighting of the classroom, the student-selected materials on the table, the framed pictures of our precious community members in the background.
But mostly, I see my watching.
I remember so vividly during my first year of teaching at my current school, when my supervisor dropped in for an unannounced review. Upon her entrance, I was standing quietly near the center of the room, watching the children at work all around me. I immediately felt a surge of terror as I realized what was happening, my heart pounding as I grabbed my plan book and sputtered, "Oh, um...I'm just...observing."
She smiled. "That seems like a wise use of your time," she said warmly.
Even now, eight years later, it is so, so hard for me to "just" observe. No matter how much I learn or grow or read or reflect, there is still this bossy teacher inside of me who shouts, "You are in charge! You know all the things!" Bossy Teacher feels successful when she is busy. A teacher-centric classroom makes her feel in control and needed. Bossy Teacher gives constant reminders and directions and manages student behavior within an inch of life. I have some theories about why Bossy Teacher remains with me after all this time. I think it has something to do with what my earliest teachers were like and how vulnerable it can feel to be a teacher in a society that doesn't always see the value in our profession.
But I digress.
This photo makes me smile because I see how hard I am working against Bossy Teacher. I can practically see the wheels turning in my head. I can see my own urge to step in and interrupt this child at work. But Bossy Teacher isn't winning. Because I also see a teacher who is attentively waiting. Waiting to offer this child just the right observation or question or connection. At just the right moment. I see a teacher who is, in all the right ways, very busy indeed.
I'm busy being available.
I see a lot of things in this photo. I see my comfortable, colorful clothes. In fact, I had dinner with some friends later this very night, and we laughed at the way I was wearing just about every color of the rainbow. "What can I say?" I'd shrugged happily. "I'm a preschool teacher!" I see the soft lighting of the classroom, the student-selected materials on the table, the framed pictures of our precious community members in the background.
But mostly, I see my watching.
I remember so vividly during my first year of teaching at my current school, when my supervisor dropped in for an unannounced review. Upon her entrance, I was standing quietly near the center of the room, watching the children at work all around me. I immediately felt a surge of terror as I realized what was happening, my heart pounding as I grabbed my plan book and sputtered, "Oh, um...I'm just...observing."
She smiled. "That seems like a wise use of your time," she said warmly.
Even now, eight years later, it is so, so hard for me to "just" observe. No matter how much I learn or grow or read or reflect, there is still this bossy teacher inside of me who shouts, "You are in charge! You know all the things!" Bossy Teacher feels successful when she is busy. A teacher-centric classroom makes her feel in control and needed. Bossy Teacher gives constant reminders and directions and manages student behavior within an inch of life. I have some theories about why Bossy Teacher remains with me after all this time. I think it has something to do with what my earliest teachers were like and how vulnerable it can feel to be a teacher in a society that doesn't always see the value in our profession.
But I digress.
This photo makes me smile because I see how hard I am working against Bossy Teacher. I can practically see the wheels turning in my head. I can see my own urge to step in and interrupt this child at work. But Bossy Teacher isn't winning. Because I also see a teacher who is attentively waiting. Waiting to offer this child just the right observation or question or connection. At just the right moment. I see a teacher who is, in all the right ways, very busy indeed.
I'm busy being available.
