End of Term

Photo by MITCHELL

This week was the last week of classes this term.  My college is year-round, and we have four 12-week terms, usually with a week off between.  I had four classes this past term, with a total of 15 students by the time I was done (I lost three students in one class who all dropped out of school for different reasons and at different times).

Weeks 10 and 11 of the term, I was having a really hard time sleeping.  I would wake up several times a night, and sometimes have difficulty getting back to sleep, which is really not like me.  T was getting worried about me, it was that unusual.  It seemed like I was suffering from stress, but I couldn't figure out what that stress was all about.  Acute stress is obvious -- oh my god, that thing is looming, gotta get it done now!  But chronic stress is much sneakier -- something is bothering you, but it is at the back of your mind.  And even though you are thinking calmly about what to make for dinner or what you are watching in TV, some part of your brain is focused on it.  It causes your endocrine system to work overtime, so that you can feel your heart pounding while you are laying in bed thinking about nothing in particular.  And since I couldn't identify what exactly was lingering in the back of my mind, I couldn't do anything about it.

And then I turned in my grades for my first class on Tuesday afternoon, and everyone passed, and suddenly I was sleeping just fine.  So I guess I now know what the problem was.

When I was a TA in grad school, classes usually had 100+ students in them.  I may have recognized the names and even writing styles of most students, but I couldn't put faces to those names.  When I was an adjunct at a community college for a semester, I ended up with about 20 students, but I still only knew a little bit about the personal lives of one or two of them. 

But where I'm teaching now, with only a few students in each class, I know a lot more about them.  Especially the students that have takens Strategies with me -- it's a class where you definitely spend a lot of time talking about fears, challenges, strengths and weaknesses, past experiences and feelings.  And then I have had those same students in my Computer Apps class, and now again in Composition.  We've had a lot more time to get to know one another.

Another difference is the attendance policy at my school.  Unlike in my other classes, where as long as students turned in the assignments and took the tests they could come to class or not as they pleased, here I need to personally calls students every time they miss class.  To get full marks for Professionalism, which is part of their grade for each class, they can call me in advance to let me know they will be late or out that day.  So I know why they are missing class: they are working 2 full-time jobs and are only getting a few hours of sleep a night; they have been kicked out of their apartment, along with their partner and toddler, and are living at a homeless shelter until they can qualify for HUD housing; their partner has been in the hospital getting a kidney transplant and they are the only one in the family with a car to drive other family members to visit; their car won't start, and there is no public transportation near their home; they have been suffering from migraines all week and can't get out of bed.  I know what they are struggling with, and I hope that they can do what they need to in order to catch up.  So I encourage, I offer tutoring, I do everything I can to help them get their grades up.  But by week 10, it looked like 6 of my 15 students were likely to fail.

And then there are the weekly reports, where I tell my boss who is doing poorly and why.  So every Monday, I go through my grades, and see all the students who are struggling and try to explain why.  Sometimes I can write it off as a student who simply isn't trying, but more often, I see someone who is struggling, for good reason, and I wish that there was something I could do to help them out.  But it's their life, not mine, and they are the ones making all the decisions.

In the end, only three of my student's didn't pass their classes.  I wish it were zero, but I know I did everything in my power to help them succeed.

Part of me wishes I could take a step back, be less involved, be less emotionally invested, to just say, "If you don't do the work, you suffer the consequences, and that's that."  It would certainly make me sleep easier.  But I think I wouldn't be as good of a teacher if I approached my classes that way.  And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have students who have just failed my class go and change their schedule so they can take it again from me next term.  And I wouldn't be happy for the opportunity to teach them again, in the hopes that all those personal problems stop getting in the way so that they can succeed next time.