'Next to the presidency, teaching is, by far, the hardest job there is.' is what I found my self saying in talking to my father after another day with my summer students. There is nothing like teaching. I don't know what it is like to be a mother but a teacher comes damn close and to have many at the same time raises the intensity by 10. When you are a mother/parent in a family, you have a routine. A way. You know yourself and everyone and thing you are responsible for. I mean, I did come from a family after all.

Now imagine having 20 kids. 20 routines. 20 ways. 20 different responsibilities with 20 different needs that you need to have follow one way to teach one thing.

Exactly. Teaching is hard.

In the days that I have with my students, as I send them home exhausted, they, no doubt leave me exhausted. Questions after questions. Complaints after complaints and so on. All of this that I have to take care of during the lesson I am attempting to give them to make sure that I teach them something considering that is what I am there for, no? At these moments, I worry that they don't care or that they aren't getting it. I worry that I may not be teaching them correctly or that I am not cut out for said job. I worry but I can't show the kids that. I just need to keep plugging along in hopes that something is sinking in. Again, there is that motherhood/teaching thing again. All you can do is hope.

With all of this happening, it brings me back to my time in their position. When I was the student and teachers were attempting to fill my head with the things I was going to need for my life. I am sure that I gave them the look, many times, that nothing was sinking. I was not the best student as I struggled in many areas. Most teachers looked over this, however, as I move into new positions in my life, I think back and remember the few teachers who did take time and gave me the attention that I needed to get through. The ones who spent a little extra time with me and helped with the lessons so I can understand what I needed. That has never left me. I still carry that with me to this day. I had a teacher who helped with a subject that wasn't even hers. Just because she wanted see me succeed. I did. I remember it to this day. It has stayed with me. Nearly 20 years later. I often wish I could find her just to thank her for what she did. I am sure she has no idea. The same as my high school help. I wouldn't have made it through my high school career with out a certain teacher. She, as well, I wish I could find and I am sure has no idea. I think about her still as I thank her for getting me through. Perhaps for giving me the courage for getting myself through.

Recently, as I sat with one of my students and looked through their work. We were in the middle of editing work for a final show. As my student was showing me their images, I saw everyone else in their images and then I saw them in an image. I pointed this out to them in earnest because they needed to know. Though the work, overall, was good.

I told them that I wanted them to look for similarities in the rest of their images like the one we found. Like what we saw in them.

I talked to someone about that today and they told me that I gave them a gift.

I couldn't believe it when I heard it. How is something like that even possible? How could I come remotely close to doing what someone else did for me in my life? Not possible. I went over the situation and still couldn't believe it. They are young and the reaction that I got from them as I explained my thoughts would not be something one would think was anything of understanding.

But then it hit me. I am sure, wait, I know that as my teachers attempted to give me lessons and the such, the look that I gave them was something less than understanding at the time but here I am some years later writing about how much I remember it. Writing about how I could have possibly done the same for someone else. Am I sure that I did? No. Possibly not, in fact but for now, it is nice to think so.

Teaching is hard but the reward is so worth the work.