At lunch today, a buddy of mine asked when our first day of school was.

When I told him that we start tomorrow, he exclaimed:

O_o HOLY CRAP!!!

. . . . . . .

Took the words right out of my mouth.

One of the things that scares me the most about opening day is that some kid is gonna listen to me for 2 minutes and think I’m a total idiot1 that doesn’t know what they’re doing (and if I was ever right to fear this, please feel free to keep it to yourself :).

Back in 2010, the great NFL wide receiver Jerry Rice shared something at his Hall-of-Fame induction ceremony that resonated with me:

My single regret about my career is I never took the time to enjoy it… I was always working.

I was afraid to fail. The fear of failure is the engine that has driven me my entire life. The reason they never caught me from behind is because I ran scared. People always are surprised how insecure I was. The doubts, the struggles, is who I am. I wonder if I would have been as successful without them.
Jerry Rice, Hall of Famer

I remember numerous sports commentators discussing this with bewilderment, wondering how someone so great at their craft could possibly be scared of “failing” at something that they were obviously so immensely talented at.

I’ve seen it numerous times in my students, but I didn’t have to become a teacher to understand that sometimes those who work the hardest at what they do are also driven by an immense fear of falling short. But everyone is wired differently and that’s just the hand some folks are dealt.

As I was getting things together this afternoon, I thought to myself that I’m not sure I’ve ever really been “ready” for the first day of school. I’m not sure anyone ever really is, rather I think its just one of those things that father time takes and shoves into our chests.

1. keep in mind that I have taught AP/Pre-AP every year since opening day #1, so this could very well be legitimate [↩]

Today is actually the rare Friday that I DON’T look forward to.

Have you ever rolled your eyes upon hearing someone say that “teachers have SUCH hard jobs”?

Kinda like when you think to yourself, “SCREW teachers. I have a hard job — at least they get summers off!”

I feel you.

I’ve done the same.1

It is real, though. We have hard jobs.

The truth is, most people have hard jobs.2

As a buddy of mine intelligently quipped earlier this summer,

“Every job is stressful.”

I don’t pretend to believe that teachers belong on another plane when it comes to comparing worlds of pain — that’s a game with no real winner, in my opinion.3

I cannot tell you that every teacher cares about their craft the same way.

I cannot tell you that every one puts comparable amounts of time into their craft.4

I cannot even tell you that we necessarily work harder than our peers with “normal” jobs.

What I can tell you is that teaching is consuming.5

There are many in the profession6 that will tell you this is a job that they CANNOT do halfway.7

Heck of a lot of fun.

Rarely easy.

Often has little to do with teaching.

But if you have any teacher friends (and if you believe in this sort of thing), say a prayer for them. Not just for Monday, and not just for the rest of the week, either.

Occasionally, we need it.

Like when we find out that one of our students is diagnosed with cancer.

Or when a kid loses a relative in an overnight house fire across the street from them.

Or when mom and dad are going through a separation and you have to act like sequences and series matter.

Or when a parent rips you a new one over the telephone and the opening bell rings 30 seconds after they hang up on you.

We don’t always need it. Trust me, many days we don’t.

But when we do, don’t be afraid to buy us a drink.8

Like a wise friend once said to me, “Teaching is easy — if you don’t care about the kids.”

1. sometimes, even while I was a teacher [↩]
2. case in point… I have a couple of friends that are nurses… and I would never trade places with them, ever. [↩]
3. Besides, I believe that different people’s problems are relative to the worlds that they live in. In other words, I think first world problems are real problems… sometimes. [↩]
4. Some can’t. And that’s perfectly okay. Some won’t. And… that is okay too. [↩]
5. Sometimes, prohibitively so. [↩]
6. myself included [↩]
7. in fact, sometimes I envy those who CAN [↩]
8. I’m talking chocolate milk, of course. :) [↩]

I’m about to start my 8th year of teaching.

This is utter madness, considering how it feels like yesterday I was scared I wouldn’t last a week of student teaching.1

By some strange twist of scheduling voodoo, I’ve somehow managed to have a different opening2 class every single year.3

2006-07:4 Algebra I
2007-08: Pre-AP Algebra II
2008-09: Algebra II (regular)
2009-10: DB Geometry
2010-11: Precal
2011-12: AP Stat5
2012-13: Stat (regular)

Opening Day #7 kicks off on Monday with AP Statistics.6 This will actually be only the second time that I’ve had a 1st period Pre-AP/AP class.

The first was opening day #1 — August 27, 2007.

I was pretty freakishly über nervous that day and I don’t remember a whole lot, but I do remember that the kids in that first period class looked nervous that day — maybe because they could tell that I was nervous :). I also remember that day for forgetting to teach half of the notes to that 1st period class… they forgave me — eventually.7

That day started an incredible three-year run with Pre-AP Algebra II that I feel was the foundational arc8 for my career. While I feel that that was the most difficult of all the courses that I have taught,9 it was incredibly fun to teach from a pure subject-matter perspective, especially in the NCLB age where “Algebra II” isn’t really Algebra II anymore.10 11

It’s amazing how much our campus has changed since that first year. I sometimes think we have more turnover with our staff than we do with our students — and not just teachers either, but principals, counselors, office assistants, you name it.

The last time I taught Geometry, this happened:

Five days to go~~~

1. that is a whole other story, for another day — maybe in September [↩]
2. in the years when I had 1st period off, 2nd period [↩]
3. I think that’s worth repeating: I have had a different first period class every single year [↩]
4. couple of things about the first year: I started teaching mid-year, which is why next week is opening day #7, and not #8… but also, I didn’t start teaching the Algebra I classes until the 2nd week of the semester, so the first class I actually taught at McNeil was DB Alg2 [↩]
5. I had 1st period off that year, with AP Stat 2nd period [↩]
6. so there goes this trend… sort of. Getting to teach the 4th year of a class is new as well [↩]
7. I don’t think it was until year 3 or 4 when I stopped screwing up on opening day [↩]
8. along with those first two years of regular Algebra II [↩]
9. when you take into account sheer amount of material, pace and speed and demands of the course, along with the number of good students that at times were almost ready to crumble — especially in years 2 and 3 — it’s not even close. Yes, I teach AP Statistics. I’ve taught Precal. Again, not even close [↩]
10. On a somewhat related note, I usually find it misguided or disingenuous when people suggest that Pre-AP or AP classes are “easier to teach” or “less work” than on-level classes. I’m not gonna write what actually goes through my head whenever I hear someone say something along those lines. Of course, I fully realize that not everyone teaches in similar subject areas or academic environments, so if your perspective as a teacher differs from mine, I totally respect that. [↩]
11. On another related note, I wish that fewer people would equate “easier” and “less work” with “more desirable”. I know, work smarter, not harder. But very few good things in life come easy. While I won’t get into the politics of it all, I really feel like the advent of the 10% rule have really messed things up. Sitting on the bench is “easier” and “less work” than getting playing time. Nobody wants that. [↩]

English can be such a limited language, at least in written form. Take for instance, the sentence, “What is that?”

Change the emphasis from the 2nd word to the 3rd (or vice-versa), and everything changes.

Some will tell you that teaching gets easier with each additional year of experience.

I would say that perhaps on the contrary, my job feels as if it has become more and more difficult each year. Perhaps it is because with each passing year, I become increasingly aware of the intricacies of our professional. Perhaps it is because with each year I become more acutely aware of my imperfections1 and shortcomings as a professional. And perhaps part of it is that the expectations I place upon myself as a teacher become weightier and weightier with each passing season.

Its like they say:

The more you know… the more you realize you don’t know.

Each and every one of the past seven years has carried its own unique, special kind of magic that I can’t even begin to describe in words. But oftentimes at this point in the year — depending on the minute of the day — I am either optimistically excited about the upcoming year, or scared to a cold sweat that this might be the one where the magic runs dry and I just totally suck at my job.2

Or worse: This might be the year where kids stop laughing at my jokes. 3

I look around at some of my co-workers who have taught for 20… or 30-plus years… and I am in absolute marvel of them. Knowing how hard I have pushed myself these past six, making it to double-digits seems almost unimaginable to me. 4

I’m not really sure WHY I held onto this, but it fell out of my wallet a couple of days ago.

Worth a chuckle, and something I’m just gonna hold on to.

1. being a perfectionist doesn’t help [↩]
2. the latter is probably irrational… but fear and anxiety usually are [↩]
3. this one is not at all irrational as my jokes aren’t even that funny [↩]
4. this is why I forced myself to take this entire summer off, because I knew I would probably otherwise run myself into the ground at some point [↩]