What My Dreams Tell Me Is Not Pretty

“Peter, Peter…” I wait until that child, and the whole class, is staring at me…”Get to work!” I am 10 feet from the child and he just shakes his head. I keep on doing what I was doing, satisfied that I have set him back on his path. Except I have done more than that, I have also pointed out to the whole class that Peter (all names changed for obvious reasons) is once again not doing what he is supposed to and now they can follow along in his progress as well. Yikes.

“George, you didn’t blog, what are you going to do about it?” I am once again asking George to stay in for recess, except I am clever, I am not telling him he has to, he has to come to that conclusion himself. I know he doesn’t have the time at home and he doesn’t spend time very effectively in class, so recess it has to be, in fact, I point that out to him when his first answer is hat he will do it when he gets home. Yikes.

“Thomas, sit up and start participating…” Once again I am on the warpath because that child has decided that math is too hard and has therefore put his head down refusing to participate. I’ve seen it before, all they need is a stern talking to and their math confidence will come right back, right? Yikes.

My dreams have been kind enough to point out all of the mistakes I made in the past year. Those missed moments of communication, those missed opportunities for leaving a kid be, giving them some space and then reaching out when they are ready. Now those moments show up at night, except they are exaggerated versions, all to show me just what I did wrong. And I am grateful because although I cringe and get mad at myself, I see where I diverged from my road. Where it went wrong. My patience was stretched more, my mind was always too busy. So as I think of next year I reclaim my focus, my inner peace and remind myself to bring it into school. To slow down and evaluate the situation, not just shoot my mouth. I learn from my mistakes just as I ask my students to do.