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At a recent union meeting I attended (a perk of student teaching with a cooperating teacher with many hats), the conversation between early childhood representatives concluded with observation, "It sounds like you are acting more on defense than as advocates." "That explains it!", I thought. This differentiation between defense and advocacy validates my exhaustion from struggling for simple recognition.
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Do you ever wonder why teachers leave? The national teacher shortage is becoming more of a crisis by the day, but nothing is changing. Educators on social media constantly produce content revealing the intricacies of a broken system at work. They firmly demand reform and implore, “How many more teachers need to leave for society to take notice?” However, outside of education, not many people seem to care about the number of empty classrooms or students no longer receiving a high-quality education. There is no one reason I can name that summarizes all of the systemic inequities, mistreatment and failures forcing teachers out. Teaching is a job –one that requires dedication, patience, and some sacrifice– but a job nonetheless. As a society and community, we must consider why teachers are leaving. We must wonder why our children are missing out on their education and why their needs are not met. We must question the status quo; we must consider the consequences of our continued inactions, bystanding and blissful ignorance of a nationwide crisis. And we must be loud and demand change. Follow Journal of a Future Teacher on social media!
I've spent hours flipping through old photos, reliving all of my once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. However, I never sorted through all the lessons travel has taught me. Every new country and city was an opportunity to question and redefine who I am. This post is a reflection on my growth and gratitude.
A few days ago, I was hit with a spiral of thoughts about the future. Instead of trying to push these feelings aside, I faced them through writing. The following post features many of the intrusive thoughts, fears, insecurities, and questions that fill my head as I approach graduation. I wanted to share these late-night reflections to disclose the struggles behind my smile and presented confidence.
The purpose of this post is honesty and authenticity -- not to ask for pity. It's important to discuss the complexities of emotions as we all enter different stages in our lives. This next stage opens doors to independence and opportunity, but it also comes with uncertainty, change, and sometimes, loneliness. To preface this post, I affirm that despite all the unknowns, I will be ok. And so will you. I haven’t even finished my first week of spring semester, but I already see that the post-college-grad crisis is creeping up around the corner. The questions are starting to be asked at Christmas dinner and friend meet-ups: “So, do you know where you’re going to be?” “What do you want to do?” “What will your life look like?”. Although I know these people mean well, each time I get asked these questions, I see a huge turning sand timer turn over. My heart skips a beat; my chest feels heavy. My head swims with a doubtful, self-deprecating voice: "your time is running out." Why don’t you know? Are you going to make it? Are you really going to get a job? How are you going to be successful by yourself?
Independence. The intangible thing I crave with every fiber of my being but also the thing I want to run away from the most. I want to live by myself, pay my bills and rent, buy groceries, get a cat, buy a thousand house plants, and try balancing a new career. I’m terrified of living on my own -- away from my parents (my two strongest pillars and cheerleaders), my college friends and found family, and the predictability of college. I’m afraid of making decisions because what if I make the wrong ones? The wrong job, wrong city, wrong address. I’m afraid of being a professional when I still constantly feel I have no idea what I’m doing. I try to act confident on the outside, but on the inside I doubt my capability and worth. My cravings and avoidance of independence come in waves. Every other day, I am hit with a striking realization of my graduation date. This day can not come soon enough, but I desperately want it to take time arriving. Honestly, I don’t know where I will live in 6 months, where I will work, and who I will be. As a meticulous planner, these unknowns haunt me. This change carries unpredictability, novelty, and opportunity. I must depend on myself to take the next step. I am on my own now. I need to repeat that phrase again: I am on my own now. It is challenging for me to come to terms with that idea. Even though I know I will never truly be alone, I must learn to depend on myself. I need to learn how to stand on my own. I need to speak up for myself and to problem solve before asking for help. Whatever lies ahead of me, the inevitable “I don’t know what I am doing!” must be followed by a moment of reassurance and reality check. I’ll also keep “fake it ‘till you make it” in my back pocket -- just in case. Being a grownup is really hard. “Grownup” still feels like a word I am trying on like a dress I go back and forth on buying. Sometimes, it fits perfectly. I feel mature, independent, strong, and adept. Like when I published my first research paper or taught an engaging read aloud. I tell myself, “Yeah, I can do this!” Other times, after wearing it for a while, I notice its imperfections. These imperfections show up in moments like “Oh, I forgot to schedule that appointment!”, “Wow, nothing went right today”, or “Why am I so lonely?”. Why do I feel like “grownup” and “lonely” are synonymous? Perhaps I thrive most on cooperation and being around people. Maybe it’s because I see my grownup stage launching with the first independent steps of a career. I establish myself as a professional in my field; represent myself in interviews; and act responsibly for my finances, health, motivation, and performance. Or perhaps it’s because I feel lonely at the end of the day. I hope I grow out of feeling lonely as I grow into a grownup. These waves of loneliness and sentiments around independence will always be with me. Some days they will come and go almost unnoticed like a soft splash. Other days, I will predict their arrival and departure, so I will surround myself with love and coach myself through each crash. Inevitably, there will be a few days in between where a sudden tsunami will hit, and it may take a few days to crawl out and push forward. I just hope I will come out of these days a little stronger. Previous post: What you don't see on social mediaThis post was originally uploaded to Journal of a Future Teacher's Instagram page on November 5th, 2022. I thought it deserved a spot on the blog feed as well.
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This post was originally uploaded to Journal of a Future Teacher's Instagram page on November 5th, 2022. I thought it deserved a spot on the blog feed as well.
The past few weeks, I’ve been posting the best moments of my time abroad, including excursions and weekend explorations. But that’s not the whole picture.
The edTPA deadline is approaching in the next couple of weeks. I am still scrambling to understand the requirements and expectations of this complex project. It is so hard to find motivation to work on something that is only a requirement for graduation and is unnecessarily complicated. I want to focus on my students, colleagues, and experience here, but I am constantly pulled back to the toxic stress of the edTPA and domestic student teaching experience. As you see these pictures of me smiling and visiting incredible destinations, I still feel unmotivated, anxious, stressed, and tired. Student teaching is not always positive, even while abroad. It is hard work, and often it feels like there is little reward for all we do — in and out of the classroom. Physical sickness, mental fog, and emotional ups and downs are “part of the job,” and we do not get the support we deserve. Just as I’m starting to get the hang of my schedule, I am thrown into another loop with Saturday classes. It is infuriating to repeat the same assignments over and over, especially when I wrote research papers on the subjects. This is part of my authentic experience. Yes, I do have the privilege of working abroad and traveling. And yes, I still feel anxious, burnt out, and frustrated other days. A shoutout to other student teachers: I see you and I hear you. Your experience and feelings are valid. You are not alone. Thank you for reading and listening. Previous post:
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A poem for Krivi Put by Meghan Hesterman It is quiet and quaint smells like an apple orchard, with windmills purring in the background birds singing their morning greetings. As I walk around the church Built in 1832 Where my family married, got baptized, and grew, I see tinsel littering the ground like sparkling pine cones The soft pink and yellow tones are comforting, like a warm hug in the chilly air. Then, we see a local gentleman We ask for the key, pass a phone back and forth, and we slowly build a connection He teaches us about the church and the town. . . Inside, the church is small but precious A golden display hangs in the back Above six rows of wooden pews Humble, beautiful icons hang on its white walls Showing the stations of the cross. As I walk up to the altar, church bells ring brightly and softly I breathe in the crisp air thinking of my family that once lived here. After closing the church door, We walk to the cemetery Where perfectly preserved graves Fill the small, peaceful space Prpič, Tomljanovič, and Šojat are the common names I wonder how many ancestors are laid here Among the flowers, stone, and gentle flames? Our new friend invites us for coffee Later, three cappuccinos and Google translate conversations Our cousin was a governor His grandfather made brandy Snippets here and there As we piece together our family history. He is kind and patient, Like all Croatians I have encountered so far Finally, he says “It’s an honor” And shakes our hands in farewell. It feels like Christmas morning Standing where they stood, Walking where they strolled, A privilege wrapped in a velvet bow. Krivi Put, it was a pleasure meeting you. I will hold you and your rolling hills close forever Doviđenja, my friend. |
That being said, I am still required to submit lesson plans and reflections for each lesson I teach -- whether I am formally observed or not. Since student teaching began, my lesson planning process has evolved into much simpler steps that work for me, my schedule, and my mental health. Before I start planning, I ask myself: "What do I need to write and consider to feel comfortable teaching concepts and expectations the next day?".
My answer to this question varies with each lesson. For example, I will write out questions and vocabulary prompts for read-alouds, but not for the morning meeting. If an activity requires a handout or small-group work, I'll prepare one for the next day (my favorite tool is Canva because of its wide assortment of personalized templates, images, and documents).
Although my daily lesson planning is much more informal, I still approach each plan with an assessment of students' skills, required accommodations, and needs. I think carefully about behavioral objectives and use them to guide lessons and follow-up activities. This "informal" process guides my more formal lesson planning required for the observations from my supervising teacher.
So, I wanted to create a resource with samples of previous lesson plans and templates to reference (if you are currently in the field). I'm continuously striving to authentically represent my experience, so I wanted to share some of the critical behind-the-scenes work and reflection that goes into teacher education programs.
***All these lesson plans and checklists are created with elementary and early childhood standards in mind. The lesson planning process will look different for future secondary educators.
Author
Meghan Hesterman (she/her) is a child advocate and education blogger. While a student at the University of Minnesota Duluth (UMD), she created Journal of a Future Teacher to share her journey in becoming an early childhood teacher.
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