I first learned and thought about being a teacher on Saturday mornings in high school. I taught swimming as part of being in Guard Club. I would demonstrate the swim strokes on land, I would explain, and have other kids demonstrate, and then staunchly climbing into the cold pool, I would show them and move their arms for them. I tried every way imaginable to reach all those different kids. We began on the side of the pool and moved into the water. Some kids were brave and took off swimming, doing just what I had shown them, others clung to me with legs and arms wrapped around me tight, and so I would bob around with my new appendages and splash and sing to ease their fears. The outcome was so satisfying because eventually all my students learned to swim. Even the kids who I’d had to pry away from the edge were now swimming away and diving for colored rings at the bottom of the blue pool. Those chlorine filled Saturdays were at times frustrating, but they forced me to be creative, always thinking of how to explain something better, and observant of small increments of success.

I’m such a creature of habit and so when I recently returned to Chicago and headed back to my tap dance class, I was apprehensive when I saw we had a new teacher. The comfort I’d developed around learning was wrapped up in the familiar pattern of our class, but I laced up my shoes and clicked on into the mirrored room. We began with a familiar step and I felt ok, this teacher quickly assesed where we were and aimed for that sweet spot, just beyond our abilities. That is where learning takes place, in that always out of reach atmosphere. I was challenged, nervous, and doing some really crazy steps. The time flew by and my brain and feet were working overtime. I thought more that week about my little dance and tried it out while waiting for the elevator or on a corner. My search for success, comfort and mastery was taking over.

We were a tap class of 5 students, not 30 or 27, but 5. This is a luxury that no classroom teacher has, and yet they all strive for, hitting that sweet spot of learning with each kid. I applaud them and their creativity. I think back on my own career as a high school art teacher, and how everday my colleagues and I would try out methods, and strategize about how we could reach all our students. This was ongoing and constant, because just like our students we were all learning and growing. So this week while I shuffle off to Buffalo I’ll be happy with my tiny bit of improvement and a teacher who keeps trying to reach me.