Strength of Community

Think back to your favourite memories of high school; what do you see? What do you remember? Who do you remember? I suspect in those moments you’re envisioning time with friends in the cafeteria, after-school practices with your team on the court or field, co-curricular clubs where you were able to meet new people, that one science class with the crazy experiment, and that one teacher who made a difference.

I suspect, for many educators, as is true for me, we entered into this profession because we remember that one great teacher who made a difference in our lives, so much so that we’ve made it our profession and our calling to do the same for others. Of course, we can’t be that teacher for everyone, and, in earnest, working as a teacher isn’t totally altruistic; frankly, it fills up my bucket too! Working with students, seeing the light bulbs go off, and watching their growth from one year to the next, knowing that I played a small part in the development of that person, is genuinely rewarding.

It takes a lot of strength, patience and resilience to be a teacher, and, in many ways, you can’t have a bad day as an educator; I have 18 other people who are bringing their own experiences to the classroom, and so I need to be there to support as well as teach them. Teaching is a lot of giving and a lot of behind-the-scenes work, but what happens when you feel as though you don’t have it in yourself to give?

It’s very hard to give to someone else when you feel as though you have nothing left to give. This is where I found myself in October and November of this school year, and yet, I suspect that my students weren’t able to tell the difference, likely a testament to my “acting” capacities. You see, as teachers, we are performers, of a kind, as we aim to make our classes engaging and tailor our lessons to the needs of our individual students. And so, I performed, showing up for my students and giving to them when I had nothing left to give. Because it’s my job. To be there for the other people in my classroom.

Teachers are the first responders for the preservation of student emotional well-being. But who takes care of the first responders? I asked this question in a previous personal blog of mine, and the answer isn’t always straightforward. It’s a lot of self-preservation and leaning on family members and friends. But the answer can also be found in community: a sense of being a part of something larger than yourself. These past few years, for everyone really, but educators in particular, have not been easy, and a sense of school community has been hard to find at times.

Yet, I’m thankful to work at an institution, and in a profession, that values community as highly as it does. While it hasn’t always been easy, and not always perfect,  community has been a pillar of the “school experience.” This has been evident time and time again, as community has been what has held us together in challenging times. In those moments of personal struggle in the late fall, I was able to lean on my colleagues for support and feedback, likely in ways that they didn’t even realize at the time. And I was able to get joy from my students in seeing them succeed in the classroom.

Think back to your favourite memories of high school again; what do you see? You see people. People who were there for you and who supported you, and who did so in the moments that you needed it, in the moments that you didn’t, and who did so sometimes not even knowing the impact they were making. Our community makes us strong in times of need, and the value of a community comes from the ability to lean on one another. There’s been a lot of leaning in these past few years, but we’re all still standing. And that takes strength.