Year 22

 As I cover my classroom instruments with sheets for the summer, and tuck bits and bobs of a well-used Music classroom into cupboards and drawers, I'm feeling very reflective. 

I'm completing my 22nd year of teaching; it's incredible to me how fast the years fly by. My career has taken me in so many amazing directions:

• Ten school campuses
• Every grade level from preschool and TK to seniors in high school
• All kinds of music: band, orchestra, choir, classroom music, theory
• Two states (California, Washington)
• Two countries (USA, UK)
• Two teaching credentials (Single Subject Music with ELA authorization, and a Multiple Subject)
• A trimester teaching 5th grade
• One year teaching 6th grade ELA (in addition to Music)
• Student Council co-advisor for five years now
• Teacher mentor program

But these are just the subjects and places. I cannot tell you how many kids I've known. I can tell you that my very first kindergarten music students at my first job in Elverta are now...29 years old. 

Holy moly.

The 8th grade boy whose mom was dying of cancer, who told an aide he only came to school because of my band class...well, he'd be 39 now (he was 15 in 8th grade). 

That I am aware of, I've had two former students who have since died. The first, a young man I was an advisor to in England who had a lifetime of heart issues, and the second, one from my time at my current school who died a few years ago in a motorcycle accident. I'm sure there could be more; while I'd love to be one of those teachers who remembers every student she ever had, I have a hard time remembering names for current students, let alone those I had so many years ago. 

Eleven of the twenty-two years I've been teaching have been at my current school. After 13 years of wandering, not finding my fit, being unemployed for two years or partially-employed for others...this place took a chance on me, and through ups and downs and loop-de-loops, I've made it work. I have had days I wanted to quit entirely, and even one memorable time I handed a principal a list of all the reasons I was ready to walk out. That list helped me learn to advocate for myself. Yes, I have the credential and knowledge to teach 5th grade--but my passion is music. My experience is music. And if I'm going to teach music well, it has to be my primary focus. 

That said, I'm happy to expand by taking on other challenges. In 2021 I took on a co-advisor role in Student Council, something I'm still doing. I enjoy the task of Student Council, because I get to work with some of our most enthusiastic kids. We create opportunities for school spirit and celebrate all that makes our school special: the diversity, the International Baccalaureate status, and our commitment to creating opportunities for kids who are often brand-new to the United States.

Then, this year, I took on yet another new challenge. I became a mentor to three teachers going through the induction program. Teachers are required to complete a two-year induction program at some point in their first five years of teaching in order to clear their credential. Once cleared, the only requirements for renewal (every five years) are paying a fee to the Commission on Teaching Credentialing. California has some of the most rigorous standards in all of the United States for earning a credential, and the induction program, I have learned, is valuable for newly-minted teachers to establish themselves. This year, I mentored two second grade teachers and one transitional kindergarten (TK) teacher in my district--and I loved it. They inspired me to reflect on my own teaching practice in new ways, and the rapport we built was lovely. 

I'm feeling reflective today because last night we held our 8th grade promotion ceremony. We celebrated another group of kids, many of whom we've known since kindergarten, as they fly our nest and go on to bigger adventures in high school and beyond. It's bittersweet; I have been their music teacher for a lot of years, and it's lovely to see how much they've grown up. Some of them were my class when I taught 5th grade--and our IB Student of the Year acknowledged me in her speech last night, thanking me for giving their class so much "in both 5th grade and 8th grade." Her nod to the work I did in that one extremely stressful trimester was appreciated.

I'll miss them...even though sometimes they drove me absolutely bonkers with their antics. But that's how it's supposed to be. They are kids, growing, learning, testing boundaries, trying on personalities and images as they figure out who they are in a confusing world. Honestly, it's an honor to be one who laughs with them, occasionally turns Colonel Cooper on them, and nerds out about music in front of them. If nothing else, I hope my very obvious love for my subject shows them that it is absolutely okay to be passionate about something, and to share that passion with others. 

Yes, I'll miss them, but I also have a group of 7th graders, and my 6th graders, and...the cycle continues. I love them, too.

I am so very fortunate that I still love what I do. Of course, I see the problems. They're addicted to screens. They are surrounded by too much information, too soon. Parents need to do more, but also less, and they are not aware, but they're also helicopters. The 24-hour news cycle has us all convinced that kids are in constant danger, but they are the danger, too. 

Honestly though? The kids are alright. We do need to overhaul our education system--and that's another blog post for another day. And our world is, indeed, a terrifying place. But teachers everywhere are working hard every day to create safe, loving places for kids to grow, learn, and thrive. We're fighting that fight because if our children aren't worth it, who is?

My colleagues and I are all ready for the summer break--a chance to recharge and reset. August will bring a clean slate, fresh classes, and new opportunities to be even better teachers. For now, a road trip is calling me (it's calling out, "beeeeaaaach!!!") and I have a jury summons for the end of June. I have a massive stack of books to read and my egg chair just sitting there, waiting for me. A cat who loves lap time. So I finish off Year 22 with a definite need for my break, but always, always, an eye towards what is coming.

Here's to a needed rest, and then Year 23 being my best yet.