Staying Connected

My first challenge of the 2016-17 academic year arrived three weeks before school begins...and what a challenge it is, too. I was returning to my classroom on Monday for the first time all summer, and my principal came in with some not-so-great news about my dual credit Introduction to Literature class--my favorite class I have taught for the three years I've been at THS. It's become my favorite for many reasons:

1. It allows our students to earn free college credit if they pass, and they always do.
2. I get to see initially tentative upperclassmen begin to explore a field I love at a much deeper and more intellectual level.
3. The format of the class allows for rich conversation every day.
4. Each year, at least one student unexpectedly falls in love with literature.

Here's the bad news that Karen brought: I won't be teaching it anymore. 

Due to a state department regulation, our high school cannot receive certain "English certified" funding unless we offer at least six English courses. With our publications class moving from the English department to Art last year as a result of change in personnel, our total was brought down from six classes to five-and-a-half. Unfortunately (and not in a way that I understand at all) our dual enrollment courses which I teach do not count toward the six necessary English classes. Long story short, if we want the money, Intro to Lit must be replaced by something else that I need to come up with...and fast.

A few days (and many hissyfits and tantrums) later, I've decided that I'm going to develop an elective course on Multicultural Literature both because I think it will be fun and--most importantly--I think it is crucial for our small-town students to be exposed to narratives beyond the scope of their daily lives. I've been thinking today about my own post-secondary experiences and especially considering what I wish I could have known about the world beyond my high school hometown before I left it. That thought combined with all the conversations happening in our world right now about race, gender, religion, identity, etc., confirmed that this is the class I must teach. 

Thus I came to this week's moral of the story. With a thousand thoughts and no direction, I defaulted to my usual teaching crisis procedure which is to ask my peers and mentors where to begin. I started by emailing a former professor/mentor/chair of my M.A. thesis committee, explaining my dilemma and requesting any input she had to offer. Next, I posted on Facebook an all-call to teacher friends, parents, and former students for input on content, reading lists, and other shareable ideas. Doing this taught me two things. First, I was right in sending that initial email because the first comment was a suggestion that I contact that former professor/mentor/thesis committee chair for help. Second, I realized how invaluable our professional connections can be. Within a couple hours, I had author suggestions from grad school friends and profs, reading list ideas, an offer from a Dean to set up a Skype session with my students and a lead professor from UHCL, and multiple syllabi shared with me on Google Drive. The most beautiful part? All I had to do was ask.

Therefore, my first great challenge of the school year has also brought my first great lesson. We must value our professional connections. They are indeed precious, and especially with the resources we have today, they are so easy to maintain. It's a good lesson for me to begin my year with as a model teacher at THS and a valuable life lesson to pass on to my students. If you work well with people and do a good job for them, they will reciprocate. Though they may seem temporal, good relationships can be called upon in times of need, especially professional crises like mine. I'm going to use this experience as an example for my students of the importance of networking and maintaining positive connections with those professional resources. You will need them one day, and when that day comes, you'll be glad you kept them.

And so it begins. We're seventeen days away from the beginning of the year, and I feel like I'm firing on all cylinders already. I'm heartbroken over losing my Intro to Lit class, I'm thrilled about developing a brand new class to replace it, and I'm overwhelmed by the amount of work that must be done to make it happen. If this week is at all a metaphor for the upcoming school year, I'll be looking forward to unexpected challenges met with surges of new energy, and I'll expect to get through it with a little help from my friends.