Category: Real Self BS

Every year a new group of kids start the transition towards adulthood—although some were forced into that crucible far too young (& more will be as the social safety net becomes a noose around the necks of the working poor). They receive advice, go through various academic and familial rituals or they skip it all and head straight into working forty-plus hours a week to make ends meet with or without a Diploma/GDE.

Either way, I’ve been watching and participating in this for nearly thirty years. Some former students remember me fondly, others remember me as a pox upon their time in school; some I disappointed by missing grad parties due to my chronic migraines.

However they remember me or don’t remember me, I have faith in them. I’ve had 29 years to see how intransigent, argumentative personalities go from defiance to “Wow. Their life looks really solid from where I’m standing and I’m so happy for their successes.” I’ve seen students blow past the very real barriers of class and culture; I’ve also seen them sink from the middle into addictions or holes that they won’t accept help getting out of. Life can be hard and sometimes our choices make it more difficult than it needs to be.

Every year I try to remind my students that they will be ok. They have the ability to survive and thrive. Every adult feels like a faker at some point and all we can do is our best in each moment.

This year’s seniors were a special group as a whole. I always have a few seniors that feel like mentees, but some groups as a whole just make me hopeful and proud.

Who those groups are for each teacher or staff member at a school will be different and that’s a good thing. Covid hit teachers, students, families, and various professions hard. It combined with a few other things hit me hard enough for a multi-year deep depression which was only overcome with the right medication and a good therapist (which gave me some hard work to do). I am sorry for the students who felt slighted, disappointed, or discouraged during those years. I wasn’t a great teacher at that point. But I hope I did some good.

To say I’m getting better, doing better is too little, too late for many and that’s ok. This year I went back to some older practices that worked well with some updates. This year I got assignments turned around much faster (however, teachers can only grade what actually gets turned in). Next year, I’ll adapt and adjust to keep doing better. That’s what I want for my students—to be true to themselves, to adapt and adjust as things change, to be part of their chosen community, to be their better selves. I want those same things for myself—practice what I preach and all.

I’m shooting for a full forty years in the trenches. I hope I can make it with time to spare for enjoying retirement. I always hope I do more good than harm and my students learn new ways to look at the world.

If you are a former student of mine who stumbles upon this, I hope you have: people you can rely on, people who can count on you, the strength and determination to keep on moving forward. May you give yourself the grace to try again each day to be your better self, because we all fall down.