The School Bell – Even teachers continue to learn

I never intended to be a teacher. In fact, I remember thinking in college how dreadfully boring it would be working inside, doing the same thing day-after-day for an entire year.
Growing up, I was fortunate to be surrounded by a large group of caring adults who mentored and coached me so when I reached graduation, I was prepared for the “real world.” Whether these adults were my parents, teachers, 4-H, or youth group leaders, none let a “teachable” moment slip by. It was in these moments I discovered my passions and learned how to set goals.

I realized it was okay not to have a “plan” after high school, so long as you move forward. These adults shaped my vision of the type of educator I wanted to be and have become.
During my eleven-year career in youth education, I have worked in non-formal and formal settings. Currently, I am a middle school science and high school agriculture teacher at Jefferson County K-12: A Somerset School where I am fortunate to serve as a caring adult, mentor and coach to my students.

While I love teaching about agriculture and watching my students experience our food system first-hand, the most important lessons we learn are about life. In my classroom, we converse, we tell funny stories, we joke about how my children never listen. We discuss. We talk about respect, giving and receiving. We debate. I challenge them to do better than the day before so they never accept mediocrity. We apologize. No one is perfect. When we make mistakes, we own up to them (me included) and move forward. We celebrate. When one person wins, we all win. We congratulate ourselves and our classmates for a job well done in the hopes that it will encourage them to continue working hard. Sometimes, we fail. We don’t always achieve our goals, get the win, make the grade. But when we don’t, we plan to fix the problem and try again.

When I transitioned from non-formal to formal education, I didn’t know all the procedures, rules, requirements and acronyms – which was quite intimidating for a long time. Then one day I realized, students don’t need formalities. They need someone who is real. They need someone who will show up. They need someone to believe in them as my caring adults believed in me. I want to be to my students what those caring adults were to me.