This argument drives me nuts.
Because I am not a mommy. I'm not hired to be a mommy.
But I'm not a mommy. I'm a coach.
|This is what people see when I tell them I'm a coach, not a mom.|
|This is what it really looks like (most of the time.)|
But that's not mean. Not really. Mean is more potent than the temporary pain of a late assignment. When it comes down to it, my students know that I care about them. I know because they tell me that I do. And they're not wrong. There are many of them that I consider, if not friends, and not my children, then colleagues. There are many that I would love to set up with my sister because I think they're that amazing. There are some so brilliant that I wish I had their future and potential. Many of my choices have been made. Their potential is still so, so fluid. I wish I could show them how much I see and how excited I am for them. I wish I could tell their parents how much I see and how excited I am for them. They could take over the world, my kids. And I love them.
But I'm a coach. A teacher. A barren one, currently - and there are strengths in that. I have no doubt that I will learn more than I can imagine if I ever have the chance to sit on the other side of the Parent/Teacher Conference table - but to this well-meaning individual who seemed to be suggesting to me that by telling a student no (which, incidentally, I wasn't doing) that I wasn't being "helpful" and that I don't care about students - my response is simple:
|This is disgusting.|