To be reflective is to be filled with unending self-doubt.
There is a moment every day during which I consider whether teaching is the correct profession for me, whether I am too unyielding, too introverted, too unempathetic. Do I give everything I could possibly give? Am I incapable of extending myself further, or am I simply unwilling? Are my decisions best for my students, or best for me?
Such reckoning speaks to the quality of my colleagues, who push me everyday to consider whether the tack I take is the proper course. It speaks furthermore to the quality of my school environment and student body, challenging daily the strictures of my limited thought.
This self-doubt serves to partly explain the reluctance I have evidenced for writing during this–my fourth–school year, as to reflect on such weaknesses is like rubbing salt into an open wound. The other part of the explanation is that I have been exhausting my reserves in creating a curriculum which I have been stubbornly attempting to create from the ground up, as well as working as special education coordinator and learning the byzantine byways of special education service jargon, systems and regulations.
But such excuses will no longer serve. I am in danger of becoming complacent, fattened by the distance between my heart and my action. In recognition of this, I hereby resolve to be more reflective, even as it entails greater vulnerability, and may even take away from time I could be spending “being productive.”
There must be a balance.