You Never Have to Wear the Cape All By Yourself

     "You don't have to wear the cape all by yourself."

     I was listening to a spoken word poem entitled "If I Should Have a Daughter" by Sarah Kay with my Dual Enrollment class when that line paralyzed me, ultimately allowing me to release a little bit of the stress I had piled onto my proverbial plate. I had heard Kay's poem many times before and used it as a writing warm-up in several classes I've taught, but I never noticed that line until that moment last week. It was then that everything became clear right there in the middle of my class as I sat writing with my students:

I don't have to be everything for everyone. I can share the cape.

     Should I tell my class about my realization that I was hoping would wipe away much of the stress I was perpetually lugging around? Should I admit that I had this huge epiphany right there in the middle of class? I stopped writing, wondering these things, but I decided to keep it to myself, allowing the idea of sharing my cape to marinade a little. Recently, it had felt as if people were constantly standing on my cape every time I stepped out to fly. Obstacles kept getting in my way; time was never in my favor--there just wasn't enough of it. Sometimes I think in life we feel like we have to be superheroes. Or maybe it's just me who is the foolish, unrealistic one. Regardless, this one moment has changed much of my thinking recently. 

      I've been working more and more on not wearing the cape all by myself--not feeling like I have to be everything for everyone. It hasn't been easy, but it's made me feel far more human. I had been letting the stress of life get in the way recently. It always happens around the month of September when I begin to tuck away summer memories into their box and begin helping students with their college essays, writing recommendation letters (I have 40 to write this year), learning students' names, teaching new courses. So when I had this epiphany in the middle of class, it was a freeing feeling to know that I can't get everyone into college myself (even though I would love to tell the college admissions office just how amazing my seniors are). I can't raise my children by myself. Thankfully, their teachers, their friends, my friends, my family are all shaping them into who they are. I don't have to wear the cape by myself.

      When I first started teaching, collaborative learning wasn't a routine practice. Students sat in rows all facing the same way and the teacher drove the content and knowledge of the lesson.  I remember attending a conference as a new teacher with my principal on this idea of collaborative learning. After the conference, I started to implement the ideas I learned. Students were suddenly in groups, looking at each other, learning from each other. My classroom was noisy and a little chaotic (well, very chaotic),  but there was far more learning going on than there was before. I was no longer the sole source of knowledge; I learned from and with my students. I remember veteran teachers asking me what I did all class while my students collaborated with one another. I never was sure how to answer that question, but deep down, I knew what I was doing. I was building a learning community. I was sharing my cape. 

     This idea of community is something I have been thinking about a lot recently. In Dual Enrollment, we have become a community of writers. I have been writing with you and sharing my own flaws in the writing process. You've shared your writing with others in our class and finally are starting to feel comfortable critiquing mine. It's one of the most vulnerable things to do--sharing what you write. Yet, you've embraced this and shared the cape in our community. You even gave me some lessons on taking a selfie.

     In IB English, I relinquished the reins as a teacher for two days as you taught the class about Elie Wiesel's Night and Clementine Wamariya's The Girl Who Smiled Beads. You engaged the class in ways I never would have thought to do (ice cream, author royale, an egg hunt, a bead scavenger hunt, etc). I gave you a chance to wear the cape, and you flew.

 

  

    TOK has also given me a chance to reflect on this idea of not wearing the cape by myself. Having been in class last year, I feel like you are especially comfortable as a community. I didn't really have to build one. There's something special as a teacher when you get to have the same students back again in your classroom. What I've noticed most about you is your willingness to question and not accept everything for face value. In doing so, we've learned from each other. We've embraced those who have different opinions; we've debated the arts in a way I never thought could happen. We've discussed an area of knowledge that is so subjective yet somehow we've made sense of it together-- as a community. We are better together, not standing on the cape but sharing it.

     My goal for you this month is to let others in your life share the cape you are wearing. Forget about those who seem to be standing on your cape, preventing you from flying in the direction you want to go. There will always be obstacles in your life, people who suffocate you or situations that stress you out. Stop letting the daily stresses of your lives overcome you. Do the best that you can with what you have. Communicate with your teachers and peers when school gets stressful. Take time for yourself.  I see the stress on a regular basis. I see it in your tired eyes, as you walk into my classroom on any given Friday, yearning for the break that is coming in the form of a weekend. I saw it on my own face as I looked in the mirror and thought about how I possibly was going to get everything done that I needed to do. Know you don't have to do this by yourself.  Seek out the help of your community. You'll never fly without others. As your teacher, I will help you soar just as you continue to help me to fly. 

After all, you never have to wear the cape all by yourself.