My first week of teaching was a disaster. You couldn’t have scripted it worse.

My first week of teaching was a disaster. You couldn’t have scripted it worse.

I was 22, I had taught 6 weeks of summer school and was starting a full school year at St. Columbanus Catholic School on 71st and King drive in South Chicago.

The block was layered in history, the massive church at St. Columbanus was famously financed by Capone family. Across the street was AA Rayner Funeral Home- where Emmet Till’s brutalized body was displayed in an open casket for one of the most pivotal moments in American history.

But room 201 was my new home, a yellow classroom with chalkboards from the 60s, linoleum floors, no central air conditioning or textbooks at the end of a dim fluorescent hall.

I was a floppy haired 22 year white boy on a staff of veteran African American women, all of whom could quiet a cafeteria with one look. No one had high hopes I could win any awards, but each of them was rooting for me, “If you need anything, just ask….”

The Monday ahead of the school year, I met the one other new teacher on the floor, we would divide and conquer the Language Arts department.

He quit on Wednesday. And I became the Language Arts department.

They adjusted the schedule, so that I could teach each of the 5 sections for 90 minutes a day, covering reading and writing for all grade levels.

I exhaled and said “Cool, I think I can handle this.” I couldn’t.

I started that third week of August in 95 degree heat, like a walking Allegra commercial, allergies so bad I could barely breathe.

Monday was fine, but by Tuesday afternoon I was out of my depth.

One section of my classes was all 8th grade girls- 24, 13 year-old African American girls who were intensely skeptical of my entire existence. I don’t blame them.

It was probably 2 PM, I was sweating through my chinos, with the girls pointing at my pit stains, charging through boxes of tissues, improvising lesson plans roughly based on writing objectives I had sketched out on paper, when 2 bees entered the open windows in my room.

Instantly there were shrieks and scrambling. Sounded like something between a medical emergency and a boy band concert. Teachers came from across the hall as backup, and left as soon as they saw the chaos bees and girls standing on desks.

After 15 minutes of fighting the bees with pocket folders, we sealed the windows. We balled up the lesson, and the bell saved me as I collapsed at my desk.

I laugh about it now, but at that moment I was definitively aware of how underprepared I was for middle school. I was defeated 48 hours in, and there was some form of a “bee” every day for the rest of the year.

The emotional tidal wave of transition came for me. People said my first year would be hard, no one could have prepared me for that degree of challenge.

We can analyze the breakdown of the educational system, my preparation, and a litany of other failure points, but the thing my students and I needed most wasn’t an affirmation. I needed a plan. I needed minute by minute lessons that put one foot in front of the other, procedures and systems that proved I was effective.

Each of our kids is going to have those moments when school starts this year, the bee will enter the room. Things are going to feel crushingly complex, overwhelming, emotionally chaotic. They will collapse, yell, and consider quitting.

And while we need to talk about their feelings, what they really will need is a plan that helps them realize they are capable of making it. Parents, we have to prepare. We can design small systematic procedures and plan conversations that reduce overwhelm and allow our kids to feel a sense of control and forward momentum. Personal efficacy is the solution.

This weekend try this

Expecting things will go wrong at some point during the first week of school, define with your partner, “What do we do when this happens?” Sketch out your response to “this teacher is so mean” and “I don’t have any friends in my classes” or “This homework makes no sense” and “I’m not doing this assignment.” Think about how you will respond before it happens, have a plan because when it does your nervous system will be ready and steady.