The Power of a Teacher (Reflection)

               Walking into a power lifting competition for the first time, I didn’t know what to expect. Opening the door to the gym, I hear it, metal crashing to the ground, the clapping of supportive guardians in the stands. When I enter, I am on the floor with the athletes, I scan the faces of the students around me, none of them I recognize. I step back out and go up the stairs on the left, next to them, a sign points that concessions are up there too.

This must be where the audience is supposed to be.

Reaching the top, I see parents, young children, and supportive friends lined up all around the upper level, looking down upon the competitors. Occasionally a few of them will clap, then go back to standing silently.

I walk to the guardrail, following the gaze of the people around me, but searching for the student that had told me about this competition, the reason I am here. I notice the gym floor split between female competitors and male competitors. Moving to the other side, I see my student, and, in another circle, I see more of my students gathered around someone else, cheering.

I make my way down the bleachers and sit down, three seats up from the floor. As the assistants begin adjusting the bar for the next “event,” the student sees me and lights up. Running over and skipping steps, he smiles brightly and starts explaining the next event that I am about to see.

               “They are setting up for bench press, we just got done with the squats, after this is the dead lift!”

               “Wow! What’s the dead lift?” My student quickly presents what the event will look like, gives me a fist bump, then runs to the bench. After the bar touches his chest, he pushes it back up. I clap, as it seemed like everyone else was doing it when someone lifted the bar, but I realized it was just me doing it.

               Jogging back over, I ask my student, “Where are your parents or supporters?”

I think to myself, “This would be a great opportunity to connect with his parents or guardians as his grade in my class has a lot to be desired.”

               “They aren’t here.” I frown, remembering how my parents never made the time for my events in school.

               “Oh. Well, I am here for you, I have to head home in an hour so I will watch what I can!” I try to say excitedly, masking the sudden sadness that washed over me.

               I watch as he bench presses 120Ibs, then 130Ibs, and 140Ibs. I congratulate him every time, showing my support with each success.

               My hour there starts approaching and I start standing up to leave. My student comes over, offers his fist for a bump and jogs back to his weight class.

 

A few weeks pass and I am handing out the first portion of the Chapter 16-17 quiz for the book we are reading. I remember this part because as I was reading it over Winter Break, I was crying. The character is in rehabilitation and the staff shows immense kindness to the children and repeat the phrase, “It’s not your fault.” Wanting to tie this phrase in with a personal connection, the first question is to write for 10 minutes connecting this part of the book with your life.

               While the students are exiting the room and handing their tests to me, I begin skimming over some of what they wrote. There was a diverse range of answers, many of which were minor problems they had when they were younger.

               But, one student’s writing stuck out to me, the student at the power lifting competition. He shared that both his parents were addicts.

               In that moment of reading his work, I felt a sense of compassion for this student. I know the importance of showing up for these events and supporting students or your kids. In this moment, I realized how important it was for this student that someone was there for him. I remembered his casualness of telling me that “they aren’t here,” and how often he must’ve practiced this throughout his life at these events. But maybe they just missed this one event, maybe they go to every other event for their kid, maybe I just don’t have the full picture. However, I was there for him that day, and I won’t forget the excitement that he had seeing someone on his side.