I am the kind of person who wants to do my best at most
everything I do. And if I can’t do a
good job at it, I usually don’t do it.
(See: sports of any kind) I also
like to be helpful, knowledgeable, and friendly. I want to be perceived not just as competent,
but as excellent. This means when people ask me to do something at work, to be
on a committee, to share some resource, to sit down and collaborate on
something, to have a parent meeting, etc., my usual response is, “No problem!”
Which I have realized today, is a problem.
I do enjoy helping others.
I love sharing things that are working for me and hearing about things
that work for other people. I am very
fortunate that I work in a place jam-packed with “powerhouse” teachers. And I am right in there trying to show that I
am one, too.
When I left my last school, I thought it would be kind of
refreshing to be the newbie. To be the
one asking the questions, not answering them.
The one receiving training, not facilitating it. Now that I am the newbie, I wonder what I was
thinking! Not only have I realized that
I feel like a first-year teacher again, I feel like I have something to
prove. And I don’t like that much. I miss feeling secure in my identity and
reputation as a professional.
Prior to ECA, I had never taught anywhere more than 3
years. And in fact, in the 8 years of teaching
experience I had at ECA, I taught in 6 schools, not counting the one I taught
in for two weeks before they moved me across the district. I also had never taught the same grade two
years in a row. My point being, I never had
a chance to become an expert at anything except changing jobs and managing
kids. I never had a chance to develop
any kind of a solid reputation as a professional. At ECA, I had a chance to do that, with four
years in the same grade level, and I am proud of what we accomplished there. Now I find myself here, on unsteady ground,
uncertain of what people think of the job I am doing.
I find myself saying, “No problem!” a lot, and I wonder why
that is. Am I seeking approval, trying
to prove myself? Am I afraid to say no or
admit being overwhelmed for fear that people will look poorly on that? Or am I just trying to be helpful,
knowledgeable, and friendly? No matter
what my motives are, “No problem!” has become a problem for me.
I used to make a habit of tidying my desk and leaving it
fairly spotless at the end of the day.
It’s not possible right now. I
look kind of like this at work:
Except worse.
I have a to-do list that has three columns, high-, medium-,
and low-priority. The high column has
about 15 things in it, the medium about 10, and the low, 1. It’s not looking good, folks.
I know all the things I used to tell newbies. “The first year is about survival.” “Everybody has been there…try to relax and give
yourself a break.” “Nobody expects you
to be a superstar your first year.”
Except I expect myself to be a superstar, always. How do I get around that?
This has been such a difficult, negative week for me at
school, mostly because I just can’t find the time to feel like I can catch
up. I don’t have enough time with my
kids, I’m meeting with 2 sets of parents every morning before school for “snapshot”
conferences, I’m meeting with colleagues throughout the day to get collaboration/integration
stuff done, and I just can’t dog paddle my way through it all. Finally, today I felt like I broke through it
and scratched some things off that list of mine, and then came the complaint
email from a parent about me not doing enough to differentiate for a child…
I always come back to my mom’s advice: “Sometimes good enough is good enough.” Reading that brings tears to my eyes because
it runs contrary to this selfish, overachiever spirit of mine and I have a hard
time agreeing with it. It is hard for me
to call “good enough” good enough when it comes to my job, my family, my home. But, maybe it’s time to shift from a “No
problem” mentality to a “Good enough!” mentality.
I’ve been out of balance with myself all week, culminating
in a lovely moment, right as Jason walked in the door last night. I had been cooking in the kitchen and had
left a cabinet door open right at head height.
I was leaning down to reach something in the freezer, stood up, and
banged my forehead on the door. It was a
brain-rattler. I saw stars and thought I
was going to black out. When Jason
walked in, I was holding a towel with ice on my head with one hand, the other
hand stirring something, my face contorted with dry sobs. I just lost it.
Thank you, God, for a husband who can put up with messy me
and just hug me and tell me it will be ok.
Recognizing I’m out of balance, I’m trying to do things to
restore my self. Baths with candles and
a Madeleine L’Engle book are helping.
(Thankful for a hot water heater that lasts long enough to fill a deep
tub with hot water. Thankful that we
were able to ship our household stuff, meaning my Madeleine L’Engle collection
and I are reunited after 6 years. Thank
you, Mom, for the candles from Ikea.) Today
I came home determined to bake and cook and do something constructive with my
evening, so I’ve made oven fries, two quiches, and a batch of homemade cinnamon
rolls for friends and neighbors here. Seeing the fruits of my labor helps. Eating them will help more. I’m
planning walks in the woods this weekend and time to rest, even though my
classroom is a disaster and I want to move my desk, organize and level my
classroom library, and on and on and on…
I’m feeling back to myself, and where I can say, right now,
maybe good enough is good enough. That
is, until I get back to school tomorrow and start again. Perspective gained in the evening is often gone in the morning.
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