My name is Karla.
Soon to be Karla Carlston. I am 23 years old, I love to read, watch movies, be
with my friends and family, get caught up in silly TV series, etc. I don’t
enjoy partying and can be somewhat of a recluse. Yet if you know me you would
probably never know that unless you REALLY knew me. I am a confident, happy,
independent individual. I don’t let people walk all over me, I stand my ground,
I am sassy and bold. And I also have one of the truly hardest and most
rewarding jobs (in my opinion).
Let me tell you
about my job. My typical day consists of working with children—lots of
children. I am a healer. I have consistent complaints of tiny paper cuts,
bloody noses, irritated bowels—you get the picture.
I also teach
social skills. I patch up friendships. I dry tears. I heal hurt feelings. I
practice how to properly behave in society at a young age. I prepare them
socially for the world. I listen to constant and I mean CONSTANT complaints of
bullying, physical aggression, and whatever else comes. I also hold small
social circles where we learn to talk kindly to each other, uplift one another,
and talk about how bullying makes us feel only to do it all over again the next
day.
Oh and that’s just
the first of it. I also juggle administrator expectations, government laws, and
parent needs for these tiny humans. There are tests to run, papers to compile,
and little pay to go around to fulfill the needs an expectations of my job.
I am also
responsible for the learning environment, the brain development, and the
comprehension of each child that passes through my doors.
That’s right. I am
a teacher. A hardworking, underpaid, underappreciated teacher. A teacher who
can’t “leave work at home”, a teacher who needs 2 months off in the summer just
to sleep, recuperate, and get back into the daily grind. A teacher without the
means to fill the empty stomachs of poverty stricken children, or to buy them
new clothes when they come to school reeking of dog or smoke.
So for those that
think that we just sit around and color, do arts and crafts, and get 2 months
off in the summer to just “relax”—think again. Come be in my classroom for 1
hour. 1 day. 1 week. Come see what it means to be a teacher. It is so much more
than it is made out to be. Being a teacher requires responsibility and
confidence. 22 children looking to you for support, comfort, relief, education,
entertainment, kindness, love, and a gentle heart. And that is a job worth
doing.
There are the days
where you just want to leave the room. Your lesson plans that you worked all
night on aren’t going as you thought. Or your class refuses to follow
directions and just talks over your tired hoarse voice. Or your aching back
feels the need to give out from constantly bending over to a 6 year old level,
tying shoes, or sitting in chairs too small for you. These are the days when
you often feel the desire to give up. Where you don’t feel like you are enough
for them.
But then there are
the days that little arms wrap around your waist, just because. And precious
eyes look up at you and tell you on the way out the door “I’m going to miss you
when I go home.” Or when you sit your students down after a long day of hurt
feelings and have them say something nice about each other, because at that
moment social skills are more important than subtraction or handwriting. As you
watch your students, in this “friend circle”, say nice things about each other
you see them relax, lean into each other, and smile. Or the days when you learn
that children are the most loving and forgiving creatures in this world.
Or the moment when
your students are walking out the door making friends with each other because
of your example, your teaching, your person.
My name is Karla.
I am a 23 year old teacher. I love my job. I ask for respect for the teachers
that have affected you. For the teachers that have been in your life, your
families lives, for those that work day and night to enrich the lives of
children. The soon to be leaders of the world. Smile at us, encourage us. We
need it just as much as the children do.
