Its Friday. The first week of the school year is over. This is a funny time of the year because you meet the "representative" of the student, not the student themselves. The real student shows up a couple weeks from now. They show up after a week of feeling out the teacher, observing what will fly and what will get them in trouble. This is also the time of the year where the fresh promises are still within reach.

"This year I'll get straight A's."

"I'm going to be organized this year!"

In some cases you have the shy kid in the back who promised herself that she would be brave this year, but still hasn't quite mustered the strength. They're not all like that though, some kids come into the classroom ready to conquer. Their energy is intoxicating, their smile bright. These are the consistently goofy and silly kids. These kids make it hard for me to keep a straight face, by far THE hardest skill for a teacher to master. So after a week with these kids, where am I?

Well that's the million dollar question, yet the one least often asked. People ask about the kids, "what are they like?" "Do they behave?" But almost never, "Are you enjoying your classes?" Why is this question important? Well that's simple; happy teacher, happy student. As we see the performance of students fall across the country, we see legislators scramble to find better tests, or trying to write more rigorous standards, or to adapt the observation system to make sure teachers follow procedures. Yet all of this is just making things worse, because none of these people asked the teachers, "Are you enjoying your classes?"

A professor told me in college that if you do what you love you will never work a day in your life. Well, I'm doing what I love, truly I am. I can't imagine anything else in the world I would enjoy as much. However, I work my ass off! Why does something I love so much feel like such work? Because every effort is being made to ensure that teachers HAVE to work their asses off. This is done even if it's at the expense of forming the bonds with students that lead to students caring about the class, themselves, their success. What I noticed this week in my classes was remarkable, but honestly I'm sad it took me until my seventh year teaching to see it.

I teach mostly advanced placement classes so typically my students are intrinsically motivated. But this year I was given two sections of standard level courses. Sadly, in my school, those classes are closer to remedial level courses than standard level. Not because the content isn't standard level, but because the students have been pushed through an educational system that abandoned them back in third grade when they didn't perform well on their standardized test. Every year they sorted the kids. Those who failed to perform are tossed into classes. They are thrown into classes with the teachers that barely care anymore, despite their failure to learn the content “to mastery”, they are passed along out of guilt or obligation or whatever. You'll hear people chastise the kids for being lazy and not being prepared for the world, never stopping to wonder why. They never had anyone in class to learn from. They never had the bar set high for them. They were labeled "below average" and no one bothered to try to make them more.

But I have them now. I have a roster of kids that people told me to "watch out" for. They don't work. They don't listen. They're disrespectful... This has not been my experience thus far. I think it's because I did something crazy. I actually taught them. Answered their questions, spoke to them like adults, made playful and sarcastic jokes. Admitted my shortcomings and playfully redirected behavior. Today, they were policing one another, explaining the assignment to each other, all working. They asked me questions, they interpreted what they were reading and they were interested. As I walked around the room watching them, I was proud of them, and sad all at the same time. What if someone had thought to teach them years ago? Who could these kids have been? So my job now, in one short year, is help them see who they can be from here.

With any luck, they will be as proud of themselves as I am of them.