Where’s My Prize for Being Unflappable?

Summary

A teacher reflects on the challenges and rewards of working with high-needs students, using the metaphor of "unflappable" calmness in the face of adversity.

Abstract

The poem "Where’s My Prize for Being Unflappable?" delves into the emotional resilience required to teach high-needs students, likening the teacher's composure to a "smooth sea" that conceals underlying turmoil. The author acknowledges the difficulty of maintaining this unflappable demeanor, revealing that it's not as effortless as it appears. The true prize for such stoicism is not tangible accolades but the profound impact on students' lives, exemplified by a former student's gratitude. The poem also touches on the personal cost of this role, hinting at the unseen toll of emotional labor. The piece is inspired by Sarah Kay's work and is part of the author's series of daily poems written as a path to wellness.

Opinions

The author suggests that the outward appearance of calmness and control in the teaching profession belies the internal challenges faced by educators.
There is a recognition that the emotional burden of teaching high-needs students leaves a lasting impact, akin to a debt that is gradually paid off.
The true reward for teachers is the positive influence they have on their students, which may only become apparent years later.
The poem implies that the societal recognition and tangible rewards for teachers are insufficient compared to the significant contributions they make to their students' lives.
The author expresses a deep connection with their students, emphasizing the transformative power of their role as an educator.
The work pays homage to the influence of another poet, Sarah Kay, indicating a community of writers and educators who inspire and support each other.

A teacher reflects on working with high-needs students.

Where is my prize for being unflappable? For coating a city that seethes underneath a smooth sea? For never showing what direction my waters are flowing? For avoiding the flinch no matter the hurl?

That unflappableness is a place timeless. Flung arrows and slung stones stop. I am Teflon; hear them bounce. Or so it all seems…

The truth is not so easy to be.

My horse knows. My horse taught me to see my lies even ones I didn’t know I believed: suffering doesn’t slide off clean, it more oozes and drips and leaves residue like tree sap.

My prize for being unflappable is the warm fireplace I become for children who themselves are out of control storms that rage against nights good and bad. Their hail and fury catapult off, for it is not meant for me. No, it isn’t mine at all. So I’m ready when they are, no shame, no blame no need to collect my pound of pain.

My prize for being unflappable is not a trophy all cobwebbed on my wall or a certificate in fancy font with gilt edges. My prize? The once-student, now-parent who approaches all shy: “You probably don’t remember me… you taught me to really understand math. You changed my life path.”

And the price for being unflappable? The invisible, unacknowledged impact of bloodless barbed words and actions. I’m almost finished paying off that debt.

About this Poem: A thank you to all my students, or parents/guardians of students, who have shared their “the rest of the story” so I know what happens after our end. And A tip of the hat to “Unreliable” by Sarah Kay (found here: Issue Forty: Sarah Kay — The Adroit Journal). Sarah Kay’s poem begins with the line “Where is my prize for most unreliable narrator?” That idea of “Where is my prize for….” as a launching point is so delicious. I wrote another poem using Sarah’s start, which you can find here: Where’s My Prize?. Greed is not good, never was good, the… | by Emily Gibson | Medium If you write a poem with that line, please tag me, I’d love to see how you run with it!

In 2022, I wrote a poem a day as part of my path to wellness with MS. This year (2024) I follow the call to write along the bones of another year. This is #8 of 2024.

Poetry Prompt

Where’s My Prize for Being Unflappable?

A teacher reflects on working with high-needs students.