Teacher, Mother, Drama

Drama. It surrounds us. You can’t run from it. You can’t hide from it. It infiltrates every relationship we have. Is all drama bad?

Well, I had the opportunity to conference individually with 80 students over two days about the narrative essays they are writing in my class. This is always an experience, sometimes good, sometimes bad. Most of the conferences went well this year.

I love it when I’m asking a student a question about how they felt at a particular moment or to describe in great detail what they saw in one instant, and you can visibly see the light bulb come on as they figure out what I’m trying to get them to do. I get frustrated when a student stares blankly as I question and seems not to care about me trying to help them become stronger writers.

This year I had a new experience. Tears and a student insisting loudly that there was no way they could fix their essay at this point to meet the requirements. Not just “a student”, my own child. Drama at it’s most intense point.

Or so I thought.

This “experience” lasted through the evening hours at home…and woke up with us the next morning too. Somewhere along the lines I lost sight of who I was supposed to be when. Teacher? Mom? Supportive? Disciplinarian? Who am I? How does this work?

Some days I wonder if I’ll survive the dual roles…most days I wonder if this is what home school parents face everyday. I couldn’t do it. My kids don’t take instruction well from me. I don’t know why. I’ve taught them lots of things…school topics seem to be off-limits, though.

I wonder how often I do the same to God’s instruction? Do I tell Him He’s wrong? That He doesn’t understand, or that He can’t explain it well enough for me to understand? Or do I get to the point I just tune Him out?

I’d like to say the answer to all of those questions are no, but that would a lie…

Apple meet tree.


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