Many Adolescents Turn into Nice Adults

I recently finished my second semester of teaching Community College. At present, I'm doing this part time so that I can spend most of my time with my daughter (soon to be plural). Teaching adults is quite a treat after my 4 years with middle school students. First of all, the end of the semester crept up on me, rather than finally arriving after countdowns and days that felt like they passed in slow motion. I was almost sad to see the semester come to a close, even in my state of being largely pregnant and often tired. I will miss my students. Secondly, my students bombarded me with presents, thank you e-mails, and verbal praise. One woman even referred to my teaching style as "the best". I'm not sharing this to brag, or even because I think I am in any way "the best." On the contrary, I know I have a lot to learn and improve upon.

However, I'm pretty sure I'm not the "worst." I'm also pretty sure I'm not a "huge b#%ch," "f#@kface," or as one middle-school student simply put it, an "a$!hole." I mean, maybe I occasionally exhibit characteristics of these derogatory titles, but I really can't take credit for actually being any of these things. But I have been called them all by adolescents. In contrast, my nicknames from my community college students included "Teach" (by a girl who just couldn't remember my name), "Miss," and "Rascal" (by an older male student who called everyone some form of pet name throughout the course).

I'm not saying that all or even most of my relationships with the middle school students were strained and negative. And I'm not saying that I hated my job teaching middle school. On the contrary, I had touching, tender, amazing moments with my middle schoolers. There were days I absolutely LOVED my job. And even on the days I didn't love it, maybe even hated it a little, I at least really believed in the importance of my job and the need to do it well. Teaching, even when you feel like you're teaching a bunch of ungrateful s@$th#^ds, is a meaningful career, and even the darkest moments have silver linings if you look hard enough.

But going to class at the college and actually teaching (!) was amazing after my years in middle school. The worst discipline issues I had were students who forgot to turn off their cell phones or those who got too involved in a discussion we were having and had to be refocused. I corrected those minor issues with a half-joking stink eye that would usually bring on a quick apology. I never felt the urge to kick anyone out of class. I often finished the evening feeling energized and elated by my students. I felt like I actually taught something most of the time.

Perhaps it is precisely my background that allows me to love the community college setting so much. I'm teaching developmental English and Reading. These are not disciplined students. Most of them are probably my middle school population just a little older and wiser. I have recovering drug addicts, teenage moms, ex-convicts, high school dropouts, and those who do not view education very highly. I have felt the heartbreak of losing promising students mid-semester to a life tragedy or even self-inflicted drama that knocks them off track. I have had a few slackers, those who I know are trying, but just aren't going to make this on this go-round either. I have adults older than myself reading at a 4th grade level. I have students who don't know how to open a Word Document, and are therefore totally overwhelmed by a paragraph-writing assignment. I have non-native English speakers who can barely form a coherent sentence. I have had several students cry in front of me about problems in their personal lives. I have had the occasional case of plagiarism and/or other forms of cheating. All this in just two part-time semesters. My point is that these students' lives often contain just as much drama as those of my thirteen and fourteen year olds.

Perhaps if I didn't have a background in high-needs middle schools, this would all be too disheartening and frustrating. Maybe I'm just learning something about myself: I'm drawn to the needy population. Now that I have college experience, I could probably go get a job teaching at one of the local universities that would surely have a higher caliber of students. However, I don't have the desire to do that. I loved my needy middle schoolers, despite often feeling abused by them. And I love my needy adults. In fact, I think community college might be a great balance for me. These students allow me to feel needed. They inspire me to get better at teaching, to strive to improve upon their often horrendous and spotty past educations. They allow me to feel altruistic, and they challenge and improve my ability to empathize. However, these students also have learned, somewhere between middle school and adulthood, how to be grateful. They have learned the value of education and want to use it to better their lives. They might not be good at school. They might be awkward or lazy or way behind the curve, but they have learned to value themselves enough to try again, to work on self-improvement and to occasionally thank those along the way who lend them a hand when they need it.