New classes and old faces

Well, as predicted my Sunday dread soon evaporated upon meeting my new classes at school this week. There is nothing quite like 150 fresh new faces to alleviate any feelings of nervousness or anxiety about returning to work.  This week was a real reminder of why I’m still in this profession. Of course it is stressful, highly emotional and completely exhausting, the fatigue really is worth it sometimes. Although I might claim that it’s all of the perks that I described in my first post that are the best bits but what I always fail to remember when I’m fully entrenched into the summer holidays holidays is just how great it is working with young people.  This week I have already had so many funny, emotional and intriguing interactions with my new students and we are only a week into term. I’ve cried after talking to an amazingly strong and resilient young man about the death of his mother, I’ve laughed my head off at the cheekiness of one of the students in my English class whose banter rivals most, I’ve compared trainer preferences with a brilliant member of my form, I’ve discovered a fellow vegan to share food tips with and of course been reunited with my wonderful students from last year, now in their final year of compulsory education.  And It’s amazing what a break can do. I had a troublesome student (to put it lightly), in one of my English classes last year who, prior to coming to our school had been educated in an extremely strict and punitive educational institution overseas. Well, you would have thought that this would have kept him in line given that he was used to a setting where his punishment for acting up would have involved some serious beating. How wrong could I have been. This student, who shall remain nameless was the bane of my teaching life. On the days when he made it into school he was so disruptive in my lessons that I wanted to tear my hair out and when he wasn’t I was racked with guilt for the fact that all I could focus on was how pleased I was at his absence and therefore able to concentrate on my teaching instead of bargaining with a 17 year old to stop drumming incessantly on the table with a pair of pencils. Now whilst we never fell out (that’s never been my style if you haven’t already worked that out), I was dreading my first session back with this class and the discovery that his English work which should have had significant work over the summer would have been untouched, left to perish. Yesterday I saw him for the first time.  And what was my tactic going to be this year? Simple. Shower this six foot two, 17 year old defiant boy with praise and love. I think he looked at me a little confusedly when I greeted him yesterday with such an effusive welcome back - “I’ve missed you and I can’t wait to help you get an A in English!” Nevertheless I persisted and the conversation that followed was quite simply magic. Before he left for the holidays he had a loose idea that he wanted his project to focus on “some sort of problem in society” - cheers for the specificity. I tried and tried to get him to commit to a clearer idea and was fully prepared to do one of the things that makes you feel like a terrible teacher - decide for him. So I wasn’t holding out hope as we began our one to one session for an update on his work. But it turns out that even the ones you think you have worked out completely can truly surprise you. I was stunned by the amount of thought and sensitivity that he has brought to his project since we last spoke. From a non specific and unfocused idea it is now going to be an exploration on the knife crime epidemic in London. Better still, it’s going to be in the form of poetry. And I have never seen a student speak so passionately about an idea.  He had thought so deeply about what he wants to complete - a poetry anthology where each poem is written from the perspective of a different individual who has been affected by knife crime in some way - a mother who has lost her son, an ex gang member who has reformed, the voice of a deceased 15 year old. His purpose is personal, political, valuable. Listening to him speak about his motivation was one of the most touching that I can remember experiencing. It was truly a moment of magic. And for the second time this week my eyes welled up. Of all of my students I never would have bet that it would be him but I’m going to take that as the universe’s way of reminding me that things will eventually turn out just as they should.