Teaching Math as a Profession?

Every time I work with a new group of young people I get excited about the possibility of doing it for the rest of my life. Teaching gymnastics at camp was one of the most physically and mentally rewarding things I've ever done in my life. I loved talking through stretches and motivating campers to try new things and get in shape. Then watersports became my passion. Listening to a young woman say she couldn't do something over and over and patiently watching as she got braver, eventually wanting to be on the water all day every day taught me a whole lot about patience and persistence. Sometimes we just need somebody to believe in us one more time. Assisting with a bilingual literacy program, watching an absolutely inspiring woman do what she does best and seeing the children that everyone else had given up on get excited about reading... nothing like it! And in Ecuador, learning to communicate in a different language and culture without the use of words or expectations to fall back on gave me the opportunity to test myself. I had to re-evaluate my ideas of success and progress, education and behavior, and just lifestyle in general.

At Chemawa, I am again outside of my comfort level and culture. I have to be creative and understanding in the way I approach situations. I have to check my attitude, my feelings, my level of investment and interest every time I go. Wednesdays are the longest days of the week, by far, and I am already exhausted by the time I get there. But every single time I have left feeling more energized and much, much wiser having been there and having spent time with the students and other tutors. Tonight, I worked with some young people to whom I am not officially assigned, but needed help with Algebra. I started out kind of frustrated--a young man approached me for help, and immediately began to complain about everything related to math. "I can't do it. My teacher just does it for me and I don't get it. I don't know the steps. Just do one and let me copy, it's the only way I'll learn. I have no idea where to start. I hate math. I don't even care..." You get the general idea. Everything I said or did was followed with these kinds of comments, and we couldn't get more than half way through a problem without losing focus. I was frustrated and kind of panicked. It was taking me a while to remember how to do the problems in the first place, which he absolutely caught on to, and I got the sense that he wasn't grasping the basic skills necessary to complete the problem and follow the logic. He wanted a set process, just four steps he could do every time to get the right answer, and it just couldn't be like that. So, I put down the pencil, I folded my hands on the assignment, and I looked at him until he looked back at me and said, "What?" I said, "I really, really want to help you. I am positive that you CAN do this, whether you want to do it, or not. I might need a minute to look over the problem, but I know that the process will come back to me, and I have a feeling you could be a lot of help in reminding me how to do it. What I need from you is a second to look at the problem, and then I need us to work through every step out loud, slowly, writing it piece by piece, number by number, until we're both confident that we understand it. If you have a question, I need you to ask it right away, but saying that you just don't get it won't help either of us. I need to know exactly where you're stuck, and I need to know that you actually want my help."

He said, "Ok. I gotta go to the bathroom." About 20 minutes later, he returned. He sort of looked like he had his tail between his legs, but we worked through several problems and he started to get it. His brother came over with the same assignment at some point, much more willing and patient, and he picked up on the ideas very quickly. That helped a whole lot in getting brother #1 to focus. He didn't want to be outdone. They both left, each having some of the concrete ideas in their brains (a negative times a negative equals a positive, what you do on one side of the equation has to be done on the other...). Another young woman came over for help a few minutes later, and she stayed 15 minutes past 8pm because she didn't want to stop when she was on such a roll.

I left thinking that I could do that forever. I could put everything I had into making sure a student understood, felt empowered, and had some fun doing it. Going from practically giving up to laughing and beating me to the "to switch one sign I have to switch them all" feels like a huge success. So maybe algebra is a possible career path... ;)