What I Didn't Do This Summer

Examiner column for August 20.

      When I was in elementary school, we always kicked off the school year writing on “What I Did This Summer.”  They were turgid pieces of writing, recounting generic trips to beaches and mountains, with little vivid detail or arresting commentary.

     No one asks students to write that essay anymore. It’s as clichéd as the excuse, “The dog ate my homework.” If I were to ask my students to write something the first day of school, it would probably be what’s on my mind right now: “What I Didn’t Do This Summer.” I’m sure the resulting essays would be more vivid than those generated by the original topic.

    Teachers and students alike are agonizing over the end of summer: books unread, closets uncleaned, projects unfinished. We dwell upon the missed opportunities instead of the accomplishments. Haven’t we all wondered on Sunday night, “What, exactly, did I do all weekend?” For teachers and students, Labor Day weekend is one big Sunday night.

    And this syndrome lasts the entire school year. In the case of teachers, we commiserate about the one student who disrupts an entire class, or the one unfriendly colleague whose negative attitude ruins meetings. We think about papers ungraded and lessons we have yet to plan. Eliot, my teaching partner, always says, “It will all get done.” Eliot is right, but that doesn’t stop me from beating myself up over what’s undone.

    For students, they try to do all their homework and participate in outside activities and write their college essays. But sometimes they fall asleep before they’re finished with their work and--inevitably—that missed assignment will be the subject of a pop quiz. I am always hearing, “But this is the first time I didn’t do the work!” when students are caught unprepared, and some of the time I believe them.

    Walk down the hallways of Oakton High School and you will overhear dozens of conversations that begin, “I have so much work to do!” or “I am so tired!” These remarks are common bonds between teachers and students, although we rarely recognize our shared sense of inadequacy. Students think teachers always have it all together, and we don’t disabuse them of that notion.

    Perhaps all professions dwell on the negative. The waitstaff at a restaurant probably worries about customers who are not being served efficiently more than they think about tables where the service has been good. Managers fret about the weak links on their team and often take for granted the players who do everything right. It’s easy to find fault with what we’ve done, and much harder to see the good in what we do. We appreciate compliments because we don’t give them to ourselves, so someone else has to do it.

    And so I find myself near the beginning of the school year, nervous about all I wish I had read and planned, yet knowing that I’m probably as ready for my 150 charges as I’ll ever be. And, even though they don’t know it yet, they are ready for my class as well. No more Sunday night nerves—it’s Monday morning. Time to move forward, positively.

Comments

[CaliforniaTeacherGuy]

Hi, Erica,

I was so inspired by your essay that I wrote a poem in your honor. Check it out here: http://californiateacherguy.blogspot.com/2007/08/thanks-to-erica-jacobs-over-at-teacher.html

Thank you!

[McSwain]

I have my fourth graders write about "What I Wish I Did Last Summer."

[David Jacobs]

I'd like to know how you chose that icon. It's funny!

[Erica]

It caught my eye in Google images---two books, good intentions, snooze.....