Two and a half years following my stroke, I found myself in a second grade classroom as the new student teacher. I was honored to be teaching in the classroom of Mrs. Hartigan, a lady who attended our church. She was an amazing teacher and mentor. I had expected to be taught how to do lesson plans, how to manage the classroom and how to teach content. She did teach me all of those things through example, but her main focus was on building the self-esteem of the students. I found her insights fascinating. She had completed her master’s thesis on the topic and I was so blessed to be privy to some of her strategies. Betsey had many gentle suggestions for me in my teaching. The only “critique” I remember she had was when I played basketball with the students when I was supposed to be on recess duty. “You really need to be standing and surveying so you can be there for all the children. However, if you want to go out and play basketball with the kids on the days you don’t have duty, I think that would be okay.” So that is what I did. Ultimately, she helped to rebuild my self-esteem as well.
I was still experiencing double vision several times a day for 20-30 minute periods and I occasionally became disoriented, but I tried to focus each day in the classroom, hoping to ward of these symptoms of stress. I began to notice the vision issues became more prevalent when I was responsible for reading groups or classroom presentations. I forced myself to continue and to focus on keeping my balance while appearing “normal.”
One particularly stressful Friday. I was teaching the class full time with the breaks being used to discuss my performance with Betsey. School was over for the day and Michael was going to pick me up in another hour or so.
“I have these tests to grade so I can hand them back on Monday,” I said to Betsey. “I think I will grade them in the teacher’s lounge until Michael picks me up.”
“Oh, Michael has the car today, do you want a ride home?” she asked. In addition to attending our church, Betsey also lived directly behind us.
“No, I only have an hour to wait and he is expecting me to be here, plus it will give me a chance to get these papers graded.”
We said our good-byes and I went to the lounge with my red pen and tests to grade. I’m not sure how long I was there, but the next thing I knew, I was standing at the back door of the school in tears. I was unsure of where I was or why I was crying, but I was scared and felt totally alone. I thought the building I was in was pretty much empty and considered going outside to start walking somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where I should walk or how to get there. Something told me to just stay put. I was at the door for about ten or fifteen minutes when Michael pulled up in the car. He saw me in the doorway crying. He came to me and I collapsed in his arms sobbing.
“Dear, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I cried. “I didn’t know if you were coming, where I was, or what I was supposed to do!” I was like a child found lost in a woods after frantic hours of being alone.
“It’s okay,” he comforted. “Let’s go pick up the kids and then we’ll go home. Once we get home, you can rest and you will feel better.”
He was right (unfortunately, he usually is). After a nap, I was rested and oriented again.
“That is the worst feeling!” I shared with him later as we talked in bed. “It is like you know you should know what is going on, but you have no clue how to figure it out. You feel so helpless.”
“You just need more rest than what you are getting,” he concluded.
On Monday morning the saga continued when I returned to school and had no idea where I had left the papers I had graded. I frantically searched the classroom only to find they weren’t there. I confessed to Betsy that I had no idea where they were. Without judgment, she went to the teacher’s lounge with me to look for them. They were no where to be found. Betsey assured me they would turn up sooner or later. It was later that day when another teacher dropped them off having found them in the staff bathroom.
I was thankful not only that she had found the papers but that being disoriented didn’t happen too often. I was close to the end of my student teaching. It had been a wonderful experience. I felt so blessed to have been able to teach with a phenomenal woman who not only focused on the self-esteem of her 2nd graders, but also took the time to help rebuild the self-esteem of a challenging student teacher.
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