Right? You all totally thought I'd died of stress and from taking 22 credits. It would have been a good, logical guess, though. But you'd have been wrong! Delightfully, wonderfully wrong!
You see, the stress gods took pity on me. My stress level is a fraction of what it used to be, and it is miraculous. It's not like I don't feel any anxiety, but it's not nearly as bad as before. And it happened all by itself! Or did it...?
I think this is the first few months in my entire life (well, since like 3rd grade) that I haven't been banging my head against the wall because of my classes. Yes, I am taking 22 credits. Yes, it's a lot. Yes, it's too much and I maaaybe shouldn't have done it. But I have and I am happy.
Yep. Happy. Happy because I'm working with wonderful 5th graders. Happy because I met wonderful high school English language learners. Happy because I'm excelling in my classes. Happy because bio-anth isn't destroying me, and even when I have an issue, my professor is quite attractive and kind, so it's sort of a win-win. Happy because, for once, I'm defeating my mountain of homework rather than it defeating me. Happy because I am often surrounded by peers and teachers who believe in educational equity for all. Happy because I don't have to deal with the drama of student-run clubs. Happy because I have the best boyfriend and fellow squirrel-bagger ever.
But you know what I'm dreading? I'm dreading having to leave my 5th graders in a few weeks. They make me so frustrated and exhausted, and they make me so happy. I've made fabulous connections to some students, and it's hard for me to take in that I probably won't see them after my next few visits. I'm in the process of writing them all cards about how much they've achieved this year. I'm also dreading leaving my ELLs at the local high school. I've only spent about 10 hours there, but I adore them. I'm pretty sure most of them can't stand me, but I've learned so much for them, I'm having dreams in Spanish, and I'm beginning to see how brilliant they are. Last week, they threw a surprise party for the teacher, and I felt like I was in the middle of Erin Gruwell's classroom (you know, from the book/movie The Freedom Writers). There I was, witnessing Latino, Chinese, Ethiopian, and Punjabi students tell the teacher how much they love her and how she has inspired them.
Maybe I should stop being selfish and treasure all the amazing memories I have from this year. Was it only a year? It seems like far more than that. And to think I get to spend the rest of my life doing this!
These students sustain me.
--Elie
No comments:
Post a Comment