Why I'm Running

This article was written 2 years ago, but somehow missed the publish button.
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There are many reasons why I don't run. First, I have never been a distance runner. Even when I played sports, I managed to figure out how to sprint and rest, sprint and rest. It wasn't really necessary for me to run long distances. In elementary school, when we had to run the mile, I didn't care about my time and decided walked with my friend who had Cystic Fibrosis (bigger issue: why was she still required to complete the mile??).

Secondly, thanks to a pretty nasty bout of Lyme's Disease when I was in high school, I got early onset arthritis in a few joints. Unfortunately, that means I have arthritis in both of my hips. You can imagine that running is a bit difficult with your hip joints are regularly inflamed and in pain. I could go on with the many reasons, which most of them include the physical pain that happens when I attempt running, but that's boring, so I won't. Hopefully you get the picture. Me running is not pretty.

Naturally, this has caused me to decide that I'm going to run a half-marathon before this year is out. I'm in week 2 of training, and I am mostly just surprised that I've stuck with it for more than 1 workout. I can't run for more than 2 minutes without feeling like I'm suffocating, and my hips were fine until the third workout. (I had trouble walking for two days after that one.) Drinking water doesn't seem to come naturally to me, so I've been getting dehydration headaches some days. It's been a rough two weeks.

I wasn't sure why I chose this as my goal. It wasn't about losing weight, although that will be a nice bonus. It wasn't about proving that I could do it, since I'm honestly not sure if I can. It wasn't about just trying something hard, because there are many other (less painful) options I could have chosen.

Today I realized why I chose this goal. I'm running to get rid of my gut. 

M decided that we needed to do a Circle, where we would all talk about bullying and how we've been impacted by it. My first period is a goofy bunch, all students with either Intellectual Disabilities or Autism Spectrum Disorder. One student has been diagnosed with a Specific Learning Disability, but I'm skeptical of that diagnosis. On a good day they're a bunch of goofballs and giggle their way through class, usually laughing at me. On a bad day, there can be a lot of confusing interactions because they struggle to appropriately express themselves. So when M requested that we do a Circle to talk about bullying, I was a bit nervous about how it was going to go.

As anticipated, it was a bit of a tough start, but after about 15 minutes we got the ball rolling and most of the class was communicating their feelings. Some giggling occurred, and students were checking each other to make sure everyone was remaining respectful. While it wasn't perfect, it was going well overall. The biggest struggle was that A was posturing and was saying comments to try and get a rise out of me. Since I wasn't reacting, he continued to go down the rabbit hole of trying to make me upset. With 2 minutes left in class, he finally cut through enough layers and hit the jugular:

"You come for your paycheck, what do you care? Teachers don't care. They just want to get that check."

Now, let me be clear, I do not take this comment personally. I know that I show up to work every day because I absolutely love working with my students. I know that I care immensely about my students, their education, and their well being. So if that is the case, why is this so upsetting? 

A has been lashing out all year and has unfortunately missed out on a lot of learning time because of his massive amount of behavior concerns. He is rarely in a classroom, and almost never in a seat, primarily due to him being hyperactive. With a  bit of a Napoleon complex, adorable cheeks, and a smile born for a camera, A is theoretically adorable. Unfortunately, he curses like a sailor, and often feels a need to insult you before you could do anything that will make him feel something other than happy. He was placed in my class because he was causing a lot of disruptions in his other first period. Not only was he not learning, but other students' education was being negatively impacted. The transition to my class was difficult, since I'm "just a SPED teacher," and he does not enjoy change in routine.

After months of telling him, "Good morning sunshine! It's so good to see you today!" and "We need to do this because your education is important and a priority. I care about you and your education, you need to as well." and "Please don't treat me disrespectfully, as I treat you with respect every day." I thought I made it clear that I care about him, despite the terrible treatment I received from him. I have been a part of several meetings with other teachers, both formal and informal, brainstorming around how to best serve this student. I have given up a planning period so that I can support him in his reading class, where he already has 2 teachers for the 7 students that are in there. 

All of this has happened because this is a student who has clearly had something happen to him outside of the school building. While I have absolutely no hard evidence, my gut tells me that something is very wrong. I expressed my concern to the social workers, behavior intervention staff, teachers, administrators, etc. The problem is, I can't (in good conscience) file a report based on my gut. However, his behavior patterns scream that something is going on. A is a wonderful kid, and when he chooses to do work, he is an excellent student. He picks up concepts quickly, has a great intuition, and has been a phenomenal leader for students who have more severe disabilities. He feels a need to take them under his wing and ensure that they are also successful. But when it comes to someone caring about it, he cannot allow it, and must shut it down.

With all this in mind, I hope it is clearer why it was so devastating to hear A say that teachers, especially myself, show up for the paycheck, and not because we love and care for our students. Because we could love and care for him. When he said this statement, I became overwhelmingly sad, and was at a loss for words. He tossed the Talking Piece (a stuffed animal) back at me, and I said I didn't want to speak, as I had no words. All the students realized I was very sad, and immediately asked if I was ok, if I was going to cry, or if I was mad. I explained I didn't want to talk, and I was sad that A felt that way.

I might as well have said "I HATE YOU! YOU ARE THE WORST STUDENT EVER!" because that is what he heard. A didn't know how to deal with me being sad. What was decided in his mind, was that I was obviously mad at him. He proceeded to target me the rest of the day. If I walked into a room, or he walking into a room I was in, he would yell comments like, "Why the fuck is she in here?!" and "Get away from me!" and "I don't like you. Get out of my face."

I gave him space, because that was all I could do, but when we have 4 out of 8 classes together every day, it's a bit hard to avoid each other. Other staff tried to intervene, tried to explain to him that I'm there because I care about him, because I want to make sure he learns, etc. It only made it worse. A couldn't handle that I was sad about something he said.

The entire day, my gut ached. I ate my lunch, and immediately regretted it. The idea that a child could not accept that someone loved and cared about him made my gut nearly explode. This child, just like every other child, deserves to be loved and cared about by his school, and he clearly doesn't feel that way, despite the school's best efforts.

Today, all I wanted to do was run. I wanted to run from the sadness of the reality, the pain that is the truth, and the frustration that is my lack of ability to help this student. But I can't run; at least not for more than 2 minutes without taking a break. So instead I went through my day. I did my very best not to look sad, and just held my gut.