ELLEN
BERG
Diary #21
My Annual Panic Attack
My heart is pounding, working on overdrive. My palms are sweaty, and all I feel is panic, panic, panic. I try, but my brain will not stop flitting from topic to topic, bringing problems both real and imagined to mind.
It may be the extra large cup of dark roast coffee I had an hour ago, or it might be the techno music blaring from my iTunes causing the problem, but I am inclined to believe it is all the fault of Stenhouse Publishers.The morning started pleasantly enough. My husband had a Saturday meeting to attend, so I skipped my quiet time with the morning paper and ran out to the local used bookstore to pick up some titles for my classroom library. After gathering a gold mine's worth of book nuggets, I stopped at the local coffeehouse to pick up a coffee and nine-grain bagel. I drove home, cheery despite the dreary weather, reflecting on how blessed I am because I did not have to bake my own bagels or brew my own coffee this morning.
All was well until I got home and discovered the Stenhouse catalogue. My morning went south from there.
The Stenhouse Effect
Stenhouse has made quite a bit of money from me. I look forward to the catalogues because of their wide selection of middle-level literacy books. I noticed that Rick Wormeli, a colleague from the MiddleWeb listserv, has a new book for beginning teachers. My heart raced a bit in my excitement for him. It got a lot worse, believe me!
As I paged through the catalogue, marking book after book that interested me, I could feel my pulse beginning to race. Books on shared reading, SSR, teaching genres, integrating technology, nonfiction reading and writing and research, and strategies for reluctant readers and writers filled the catalogue.
As I marked the books I wanted to read, one thought filled my mind: I am deficient.
Everything I do not know
What the heck ever prompted me to believe I have any kind of clue about what I am doing? In light of everything I do not know, what I do know seems like nothing. The insights I have gained seem miniscule in comparison to the vast amount of knowledge arrayed before me in one Spring book catalogue.
While I am proud of the projects we have done this year in my classroom, I cannot help thinking I have not done them quickly or deeply enough to qualify myself as an effective teacher. Maybe I'm not so smart, after all.
I have been reading Juli Kendall's journal entries about her writing workshop, and I marvel at the pace at which she is proceeding. I think she has covered three genres in the time I have covered one, and I can only conclude I am moving too slowly. Do my kids understand how to research and write nonfiction feature articles? Absolutely. I have no doubt in my mind that all of them have mastered the skills and concepts we worked on, but could they have mastered them more quickly with a smarter, quicker teacher?I have also made huge gains with my homeroom during SSR. More and more kids are asking for book recommendations, fewer students are fake reading, and I am anticipating students' tastes, strengths and weaknesses as we progress. Still, I feel like I am drowning as I try to keep up with their needs, and I wonder if I will ever be able to meet the needs of an entire team of kids as I slowly transform my classroom into a reading/writing workshop.
I also worry that I am not progressing in my understandings of reading and writing workshop quickly enough. As I learn at a snail's pace, more kids are moving through my classroom without the benefit of those strategies. Will I ever make it? Why haven't I made it yet? Maybe I can't?
Widespread panic
I think maybe all of us have these doubts, these panic attacks at some point during each school year. I am trying to figure out the lesson I need to be learning from this year's episode. I think, perhaps, the lesson is to not overly wallow in the successes to the exclusion of areas that need improvement. And somehow, at the same time, not focus exclusively on what needs improving.
While it is important for us to recognize those areas we want and need to improve — and to set goals that will help us meet our own high standards — there must be a balance. What could be better than using our strengths to shore up our weaknesses?
Maybe the caffeine buzz has worn off, or maybe I just reasoned myself back from the ledge, but my heart rate and mind have stopped racing. I am neither the master nor the novice teacher, but with some time, effort, and reflection, I will achieve mastery. As much as we may not wish it to be so, learning is more a journey than a destination, and it will not do to treat it any other way.
