Depressions come from expectations.
Expect you deserve too much
or you don't expect enough.
She knows what and when to expect
to work hard
to be confident
to have dreams
and to ask questions.
Everything else is extra
a night to herself
a scholarship won.
Deserved expectations.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
I Believe
I used to think that I could be an answer. I used to think that I was creative, energized, idealistic, caring and smart. I used to think that I could create a relationship with anyone.
But I couldn’t be the answer.
I had called my students multiple times—left messages with parents and sisters. Only three showed up. What kind of curriculum can you do with three? How can you inspire friendship and common ground with three? How do you establish expectations when only three join you in the creation and discussion? It took me the first month, but I realized I needed a community.
I believe in community.
Without community those three who came on the first day felt like crutches to the program’s success. Though they had regular attendance for awhile, they soon didn’t want to come every time. Even when more students did come, they were there for themselves. No one asked each other their names. No one shared feelings or stresses from the day. One sat with her nose in a book at each session until I began to speak.
So I tried to find ways to force interaction as a part of the lesson. I said “let’s review on teams in a game.” I said “let’s first share our stresses from the day.” And some were ready for the change, but we were not ready as a community. We were not ready to be a community.
I didn’t realize that inspiring community required trust. I trusted my students’ reasons to be in the program. Certainly, I needed my students to trust me, but I also needed them to trust each other. I needed them to know and understand why their peers wanted to come and review the slope of the line—why they endured weekly prompts and four hour tests on Saturday mornings. It was a college preparation program, and it wasn’t always intended to be fun.
My students became the answer to the program’s success. They’d say “You never come to session. You need to apply to college.” They’d say “Have you talked to Caroline about the scholarship yet?” Interestingly, student attendance did not really improve, but student involvement did. I had more students in my office during the day—more students sending in scholarship applications through email.
I don’t often ask all of my students to be at a session, but for one recent lesson, I called them. It was the first time I had seen so many of them together at one time. It was also the first time when I had seen our group as a community. They called across the room to each other. They asked each other about prom. They knew each others’ names, and they discussed their stresses of the day. They caught each other up on their college acceptances and scholarship applications.
Community helped my students to achieve greater things than they ever imagined. Many will be the first to attend college in their families. All believe they will be better able to serve their communities with a college degree. I believe in the hard work, service and community that my students created to help each other. I believe in community.
This essay was written for the "This I Believe" Project. To participate or see more: thisibelieve.org.
But I couldn’t be the answer.
I had called my students multiple times—left messages with parents and sisters. Only three showed up. What kind of curriculum can you do with three? How can you inspire friendship and common ground with three? How do you establish expectations when only three join you in the creation and discussion? It took me the first month, but I realized I needed a community.
I believe in community.
Without community those three who came on the first day felt like crutches to the program’s success. Though they had regular attendance for awhile, they soon didn’t want to come every time. Even when more students did come, they were there for themselves. No one asked each other their names. No one shared feelings or stresses from the day. One sat with her nose in a book at each session until I began to speak.
So I tried to find ways to force interaction as a part of the lesson. I said “let’s review on teams in a game.” I said “let’s first share our stresses from the day.” And some were ready for the change, but we were not ready as a community. We were not ready to be a community.
I didn’t realize that inspiring community required trust. I trusted my students’ reasons to be in the program. Certainly, I needed my students to trust me, but I also needed them to trust each other. I needed them to know and understand why their peers wanted to come and review the slope of the line—why they endured weekly prompts and four hour tests on Saturday mornings. It was a college preparation program, and it wasn’t always intended to be fun.
My students became the answer to the program’s success. They’d say “You never come to session. You need to apply to college.” They’d say “Have you talked to Caroline about the scholarship yet?” Interestingly, student attendance did not really improve, but student involvement did. I had more students in my office during the day—more students sending in scholarship applications through email.
I don’t often ask all of my students to be at a session, but for one recent lesson, I called them. It was the first time I had seen so many of them together at one time. It was also the first time when I had seen our group as a community. They called across the room to each other. They asked each other about prom. They knew each others’ names, and they discussed their stresses of the day. They caught each other up on their college acceptances and scholarship applications.
Community helped my students to achieve greater things than they ever imagined. Many will be the first to attend college in their families. All believe they will be better able to serve their communities with a college degree. I believe in the hard work, service and community that my students created to help each other. I believe in community.
This essay was written for the "This I Believe" Project. To participate or see more: thisibelieve.org.
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