Dropping the Hammer

On Wednesday I told my first group of students that I was leaving over the summer. Even though I received my non-renewal notice in March, I figured there was no point in letting the students know. What would that accomplish? If anything, I figured it'd make teaching more difficult. So I dodged their questions, always answering in a vague and noncommittal ways. But Wednesday after school was one of the final meetings for the FCC (Fontana Conversation Club), the paper recycling club I had re-purposed from its original bland "Science Club". Started in December with a trip to see Bill Nye give an environmental talk, the club had quickly grown to 24 members. Requirements were simple: to be in the club you had to help collect and recycle paper. This involved customizing a collection box using construction paper, glue, and paint, and getting another teacher to agree to keep it in their room and fill it. Once a week these boxes were collected, the paper sorted into white, mixed, and newspaper, and then I would haul it to the recycling center about a mile away where our club earned a few dollars (they paid by the ton - a typical load for us weighed between 60 - 100 pounds).

A slow start eventually grew into having recycling boxes in over 50 classrooms, raising enough money to throw a pizza party, plant and maintain two new trees on campus for Earth Day, and purchase custom made t-shirts. My trips to the recycling center earned me a VIP card there - I'm not quite sure what that means, but when the recycling center recognizes your small Corolla showing up three times a week amid tractor trailers and pick-up trucks hauling cardboard, you're making an impression. Typical loads now usually run between 100 - 200 pounds, sinking the frame of my car as we load it up. As of Friday we had recycling 2,250 pounds of paper.

So it was with some anxiety that I told this group of hard working students that I wouldn't be around next year to help the club continue its rapid growth. Many of these students I had last year as freshman, and now they were working with me outside of school as sophomores. But despite the history there I was still taken aback by the strength of their reaction. The guys were pissed, but the reactions of the two girls who played the biggest role in the club's growth, having been there from Day One, struck me the hardest. They both cried - one had to leave the room. It was then that I realized that a teacher isn't just an academic instructor, or even a role model for students. A good teacher helps students become better all-around individuals, not just in the classroom. And in doing so you become looked up to - which is really weird to think about, if you know me - and being someone that the students can look up to I now realize is very important to me. And now I feel as if I'm abondoning them at this relatively vulernable time in their lives.

This weighed heavily on me. So much so that I bailed out on a planned baseball game the next day. Instead of calling in sick and spending the day at an Angels game with another teacher, drinking beers and getting a tan, I found myself wanting to go back to school to be there for my students. The other teacher was understandably pissed - he had taken the day off in advance and I bailed around 6pm the night before. But what it came down to was a self-indulgent act or continuing my role as a teacher. And I found myself wanting to be the teacher much more than wanting to be self-indulgent.

Now when summer comes around, that'll be a different story...