I'm Sorry

I yelled at my students yesterday. It happened during a math lesson. After being interrupted repeatedly, I lashed out at the whole class. I know what should have happened. I should have isolated the students who were being disruptive. I should have remained calm. Instead, I yelled. I told them that I wouldn't tolerate the disrespect and that they knew better. Not horrible words, per se. But I didn't "say" these words. I yelled them. I was angry that I was still having these issues at the end of the fourth quarter, at the time of year when we are usually having fun together. I lost it. Moments like these are the ones I don't like blogging about. I'd rather use a nicer term like, "raising my voice." I would rather say that I was "showing my humanity" rather than being a punk. But here's the truth: their actions didn't warrant my reaction. I lost it. As I drove home, I lost it again, though this time it was in the form of tears. I felt like the worst teacher in the world. I felt like my students deserved better. I weeped over the thought that after ten years, a chatty group could still set me off. I was at a meeting today with a bunch of superintendents. They were impressed by my thoughts on social media. They laughed at my jokes. They never once interrupted me. It felt affirming. Suddenly people wanted to know whether I can lead trainings. I left the room feeling like what I said really mattered. But here's the reality. Tomorrow, I will go in an apologize. I will be overwhelmed by the ability of children to forgive. And I will remember, again, that what I said today doesn't matter so much as what I say tomorrow when I say, "I'm sorry."