Not Math

As a special education teacher, I have worn many hats these past ten years.  One thing that has never changed though has been the fact that I have had a resource math class (or more than one) every single year.  I vividly recall my interview ten years ago when my principal asked what I was comfortable teaching.  I told her, “Not math.” Imagine my horror when I saw my schedule that first year and was being asked to teach a math class.  I have taught math every year since and have co-taught in math most years as well and though it’s better now, I still start the school year off in a mild panic.

I struggled profoundly with math when I was in school.  In general, I loved school and I was a really good student. I enjoyed most of my classes, I met great people and I adored several of my teachers.  We moved frequently as a result of my dad’s job, and every time I enrolled in a new school, I eagerly anticipated my new classes.  All of them.  Except math.  Math was my Achilles’ heel.  I found math incredibly intimidating and unfortunately, I never found a teacher that understood my fear of math and knew how to reach me.  I excelled in all other subjects. Unless those other subjects required math. Chemistry and Physics were pretty terrible at times, but I still managed to drum up enough enthusiasm for the subject to do well enough to maintain my high GPA.  Stupid math.  Math brought my GPA down every semester. 

My parents tried to help.  My dad would sit down with me at the dinner table and try to help me with my homework.  My father is an extremely brilliant man, but even he could not break through my math ineptitude and help me to understand the work.  I can still recall times when we sat shoulder to shoulder at the table and him prompting, “See, you just do this and then do that…”  But I didn’t see. And I didn’t understand this foreign language.  Most nights, these homework “help” sessions ended in tears streaming down my face and my dad’s arms thrown up in exasperation. Friends also tried to help and I would often seek out help from my teachers after school.  Finally, I quit asking because no one knew how to help me.

I never actually failed a math class, but in hindsight, I probably should have.  I didn’t fail, because I worked hard.  I did my homework every night (or at least attempted to do it), I listened and took notes in class, and I didn’t cause any trouble.  I passed my math classes because I wasn’t a trouble-maker.  I didn’t pass my math classes because I was a great math student. As a teacher, I often wonder if my math teachers did me a disservice for passing me and if so, how the outcomes of my life might be different.  I admit that I shied away from certain career paths that I may have excelled in, solely because the courses required for that particular degree were math-intensive.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life, but I often wonder what if?! 

Not math.  Ten years later and I am thrilled that that particular plea fell on deaf ears.  I love teaching math.  I love the look I see in the eyes of my students when finally they understand a concept.  I got lucky and fell under the tutelage of a phenomenal regular education math teacher.  Mrs. K and I worked together for several years and she enabled me to give voice to my fear of math.  For a while, I felt like a fraud. There I was- someone that had done poorly in math throughout school and was now responsible for teaching math to students with learning disabilities.  The irony was definitely not lost on me.  Nonetheless, Mrs. K gave me the skills, and more importantly the confidence to take these math classes head on.  Mrs. K and I worked together in a true co-teaching model for Algebra I.  I taught just as much as she did and we were often able to finish each other’s sentences.  Because of working with Mrs. K for several years, I no longer dread teaching math.  I look forward to it.  I can say with confidence that I am a good math teacher.  My history of struggling with math has turned out to be my biggest asset when it comes to teaching.  When I encounter students that have the “not math” attitude, I share with them my history and I let them know right away that I know how they feel. I let them know that we will get through the work together and we break down problems until they master each of the steps needed.  Not math?!  Pshhhh.  YES, math!

New Beginnings

New beginnings.  Despite it being the end of the school year, I find myself stepping way outside of my comfort zone to join the world of education blogging and embark upon new beginnings.  As with most first posts, I’m going to tell you a little about myself and the path that has led me to this point. 

The 2013-2014 school year will mark my 10^th year as a teacher.  Growing up, I never wanted to be a teacher.  I didn’t play “school” as a child and this career path never even made my top ten career lists when I was a senior in high school.  I made it all the way through college without a desire to teach.  I received my undergraduate degree in Communication Disorders in December of 2000 and then took several years off to “find myself”. After working as a residence director at a home for developmentally disabled adults, I decided to go back to school and pursue my masters in special education.  I wasn’t truly interested still in becoming a classroom teacher- I wanted to be a family advocate or serve in a similar capacity in a non-school environment.  I lucked into finding an alternative program for non-traditional education majors and I was off and running. 

Two years of grad school crammed into one.  I loved it. I loved the classes I took. I’ve always loved school. I could be a professional student if I could afford it.  While working on my degree, I was fortunate enough to be able to substitute teach.  Forget student teaching.  If you really want to be thrown to the wolves and practice classroom management on the fly- work as a substitute teacher. (I’m kidding about throwing out student teaching) In August 2004 I earned my degree and walked into my very own classroom for the first time.  10 years later and I am still in awe over that heady feeling of having my own classroom.  I have also been fortunate enough to work in the same building all ten years with the same colleagues and the same community of children.  I love my job. I love everything about being a teacher.  I cannot imagine doing anything else with my life.  I know that I make a difference in the lives of most of my students.  Ten years has seasoned me to accept that word “most”.  When I first started teaching, I wanted to save the world and reach all of my students. I know I’ve touched my students, but the wisdom of ten years allows me to accept that most, not all will take my interests in their lives to heart.

Here I am ten years later taking my first plunge into this wonderful world of education blogging.  I'm ready for the new beginnings.  I'm ready for the beginning of my summer. I'm ready to begin my tenth year as a teacher!  Here's to new beginnings!