“Does anyone have any questions for Miss Leavitt?” Mrs. Bushman asked her eighth graders as I stood in front of them for the first time, attempting to mask my nervousness with a smile. One boy’s hand shot up: “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he started (never a promising start to a question), “but have you ever been told you look like you’re sixteen? Because when I was talking to you this morning, I thought you were a ninth grader!” The class laughed. “Well, I will take that as a compliment,” I said, feeling a bit awkward, “because in ten years I’m sure I’ll want to look younger. Luckily, I haven’t been asked for a hall pass yet!” Only a few students chuckled at my lame humor attempt. Mrs. Bushman consoled me with her similar experience looking young as a student teacher, and then asked the class for more questions. The next gem came from a girl: “Do you like Justin Bieber and One Direction?” she asked with wide eyes. I had noticed her reading a book full of quotes from and pictures of the boy band earlier. I mentally debated whether or not I should admit to liking the very juvenile boy band—I was, after all, just accused of looking like a ninth grader, and liking One Direction wouldn’t do much to establish a mature reputation. “I love them,” I blurted out anyway—maybe because I wanted her approval, maybe because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Good,” she said, smiling. “We can be friends.”
Friends. I remembered Dr. Coombs saying something about how teachers are not meant to be friends with the students, but to teach them. I would definitely say that this week, the topic of my relationship with my future students was on the forefront of my mind. Because I look younger—a fact not unnoticed by the students—I might have a more difficult time gaining control of my class. I’m not what you would call intimidating. Several girls in my field experience classrooms complimented me on my “cute” shoes, dresses, hair, etc. as if I were their classmate. Can I be viewed as a mature adult and yet still be approachable?
So far it seems that my major problem is being respectable. Not so. I’d say that an equal concern of mine is whether or not I have the potential to be truly likeable as a teacher. I discussed this topic with a friend. I told him how I didn’t know how to relate to the seventh graders in my field experience classroom. Surprisingly, I actually liked grading their papers; seeing their funny and, at times, insightful observations made me feel connected with them. But I somewhat dreaded when they would start waiting by the door for the bell to ring, making me feel a tugging obligation to converse with them. You can only ask different students about the book they’re reading so many times before you start looking like a book-obsessed weirdo! Is it unnatural that I would rather grade the kids’ papers than talk with them about their hobbies? What’s wrong with me? Am I going to be an extremely unlikeable teacher?
My friend told me that I need to just learn how to be more comfortable around the kids and talk with them more. He said that everyone’s favorite teachers in his high school were the ones that they could joke around with, the ones that the students go out to drink with now that they are graduated. I told him that I didn’t think I could ever be one of those super fun/funny teachers. I was probably getting ahead of myself, but I started to feel like a bit of a failure.
Then I thought of my favorite high school teacher. Mrs. Creaser was an older, motherly figure. She wasn’t necessarily funny, although she did have a sense of humor. I consider her my favorite teacher because of the amount I grew during her class. I enjoyed the meaningful projects she assigned, the eye-opening books she selected for class study, and the way she encouraged us to work harder than we thought possible. She sincerely cared about her students, which showed through her purposeful teaching style and the way she treated us with respect.
As the week progressed, I began to enjoy talking with the students more and more. I began to feel more and more comfortable around them. Who knows? Maybe when I get enough experience in front of a class, I
will be able to make them laugh. Maybe I
will find in myself a more genuine interest in their out-of-school hobbies. But most importantly, I will find a way—maybe it will take a few years—to reach that “respectable yet likeable” status through good teaching.
