teacher of teens

Being a teacher has its ups and its downs. Any teacher will tell you that. The love you automatically have in your heart for these students is unparalleled excepting from their families (of course). It's as if you have a near endless supply of foster children you see for a bit each day for nine months out of the year, and then you get a fresh batch. If you're doing things just right, you even get to love the ones who hate you. 

But one of the biggest downs is when you can't help a student. When you see them self-destructing and they won't let anyone in to alleviate the self-inflicted trauma. They won't listen. They refuse to find a happier path. With students like this (which are few, thank goodness), I can hardly stand being a teacher. I feel powerless to teach, powerless to make a difference. 

Teaching teenagers is a hot mess of finding self and making life-altering decisions and becoming the fascinating adults they long to become. I love being a teacher of teens even if it means I have to stand on the sidelines begging to be their cheerleader.