...or at least the order changes from day to day. Lately, I feel that Mother has surpassed my Writer persona, invading the time I'd typically spend blogging and writing novels in coffee shops, drinking too much caffeine and daydreaming about the next scene or character. Instead, my hours are spent changing diapers, nursing, rocking, and singing bizarre made-up songs in my far-from-melodic voice. When I do get a chance to go out for coffee, I find myself working on my online teaching job, so the Teacher persona now rules at coffee shops- jamming out emails, lesson planning, and grading, all the while rocking my son's carrier to hopefully lull him into a peaceful sleep for a moment or two.
This past week, the Teacher and Mother thirds have been bending under a lot of stress. The little dude and I both managed to pick up a cold, so we've regressed to sleepless nights and difficult feedings, not to mention dealing with a lot of mucus (the baby's, not mine...well, okay, both of ours, if I'm honest). In the teaching world, our virtual charter school has recently implemented a new website that allows for a lot of versatility for the students who work at home with their parents on paper curricula. It is a way for us to work with the students and parents on assignments that are unique to each individual student and to determine which standards they are meeting (ah, the beloved Common Core- I say this with no small amount of sarcasm, though I am discovering that there are some positive aspects to said standards…maybe…). However, no less than four mothers immediately freaked out about the new website, sending me what I can only refer to as angry mom hate mail. And a part of me (maybe in the Mother piece) understands where they are coming from- they like to do what they are used to, and they truly think believe that it is what’s best for their kids. They don’t want to change. They are too busy to change. Change is their enemy. And, for the most part, in our crazy world, that is very understandable.
Still, a part of me doesn’t understand their angst, because I believe that change is a necessity in life. Adults and children need it to get by, and you need to teach children to be able to adapt to it unless you wish to create a highly dysfunctional adult. Seeing these mothers angrily grit their teeth and deny their children this new opportunity, butting heads with teachers all the way, makes me sad. Being a teacher in modern America, I am, unfortunately, used to the idea that everyone from politicians to actors think they know more than I do when it comes to teaching kids, never mind the fact that I’ve gone to school for four years specifically studying English Education, spent another half-year in what basically amounted to an unpaid internship (ah, student teaching), and then taught three different grade levels for two years. If I were teaching in some other era, some other country, perhaps our new ideas would be accepted merely from the fact that we are teachers and want what is best for children. However, in the here and now, we are judged unworthy.
Still, as I digress from my teacher rant…I feel that Mother and Teacher do inevitably go together for me when it comes to opening students’ eyes to new innovations and opportunities. I like to think that I would be on the side of the parents who are gung-ho and ready to roll on this new program. I wish to be a mother who allows my children new opportunities, and I hope I am already doing so. In a way I think that all of these parts of me are deeply interconnected: Writer, Teacher, and Mother. I teach because I care about children, and I write because I care about learning, and as a mother, I understand more deeply the importance of both learning and writing for myself and for the future generations.
So I guess, in the end, it isn’t a matter of which comes first; all three personae blend together in a way I hadn’t previously considered, and perhaps that is for the best.
