teaching.

Here lately I keep asking myself why I chose teaching. 
In fact, today,  while sitting in a workshop, I remembered the precise moment I bent over a table at my highschool's college days and remarked to a professor visiting from a little school named Angelo State University, "I think I'd like to be a teacher."

And I thought about what sparked that decision.
I loved learning. I loved all subjects. History, writing, reading, even math and science. I liked kids, too. I loved art projects too. And elementary kids do art projects. I liked the idea of it all. A little bit of everything all smushed into one great job. And it would be a good Mom job.

And now I am in the first semester of my 6th year as a teacher in the great state of Texas.

The truth is I do really love my job. I do.
I love the beauty of the school day.
The rhythm and flow of it.
The bell ringing, the routines, the predictabilities.
I love those children that smile up at me. And all their quirky little personalities. Teaching them how fun writing really is.
I love how, while our schedules and routines are so predictable, the kids always bring something new to every day. Every day, every moment is different.


What makes me sad is that this year I feel very overwhelmed by it all. And I can't shake it.
Of course, every year I feel overwhelmed. In truth, if you're a teacher and you don't feel overwhelmed then I don't think you care enough. Because it's very important what we do. It should wear you out. It should make you cry every once in a while. It should be hard. Because that's how important it is.


But what's different this year is I feel overwhelmed by a feeling that nothing I'm doing is good enough. I feel completely lost as a teacher. It's bizarre really. I doubt myself more this year than I think I did my very first year. And I can assure you, I doubted every move I made that year.


Our district is expecting so much right now. More rigor. More assessments. More depth. More higher level thinking. But do it with less. Less support. Less money. Less time. 

I don't know.

I'm just lost. I don't know what's good enough anymore. I used to think I knew. Now, I have no idea. I feel like I'm just working harder but it's not any more effective.
I feel like I don't really know my kids because I'm scared to just take a moment and enjoy them.
I'm exhausted and it's just October.
I don't like how I feel when I'm at work these days.
I feel completely...insufficient.
And, what bothers me about that, is that I am not insufficient.
I am a good teacher. I am a great teacher even.
I get the job done.And well.
I shouldn't feel this way.

Something has to change. It just has to.
Because working this hard and still feeling this insufficient is a terrible way to live.

I'm not going to hate my job. I'm just not. I refuse.
Life is too short not to passionately love what you do.
I refuse to fall out of love with teaching.
I refuse.

Tomorrow, it changes.
Tomorrow, I am good enough.
Tomorrow, I will remember why I became a teacher.
Them. The kids.
They are the reason.

And everything else just doesn't matter.