After midnight, moments after setting my iPhone on the nightstand, deciding I couldn’t refresh NPR.org one more time, I heard what I thought was a gunshot. I live in a red state and my first assumption with every bang is it’s a gunshot, but then there was another, and another, four bangs with a silent … Continue reading November 9th, 2016
In the middle of tutoring the other day, my student turned to me and said, “It seems too easy.” I couldn’t understand why she was missing questions on a quiz that she usually got right. I pointed out the answers to her and she said “Yeah, but shouldn’t it be harder than that?”
My next student seemed to need a road map of our tutoring session. If I said we were going to practice reading strategies he wanted to know if we were going to correct the homework. If I said I wanted him to do extra practice on subject-verb agreement he needed to know if that was part of the homework or if he needed to do it right then. Despite my assurances that we would cover all the material, every instruction I gave was followed with “Yes, but are we going to,” just to make sure I stayed on track.
I could take each of these situations personally, and assume my students’ reactions are a poor reflection on my teaching ability, but at the end of that day, something bigger occurred to me. I wasn’t worrying that I was a crappy teacher. What was painfully clear was that my students are a reflection of me.