Thin Skin

Try to be like the turtle - at ease in your own shell. ~Bill Copeland

During our awesome Google Hangout a few weeks ago, Kyle asked me and Margaret what life was now like as a student, being around super-intelligent people all the time. (Sidenote: can we just take a moment to marvel at the advances in technology that now allow people to talk to and see each other live when they are in completely different parts of the country/world? I remember my mom sending snail mail to China when I was a kid, and just this past summer, I Skyped with my aunt in China and her daughter and granddaughter in Japan!) I had thought about this particular issue a lot, in fact, especially in relation to teaching. I was around many intelligent adults both at school and within TFA, but the intellectual challenge of teaching was not academic as much as improvisational. I had to be on my game mentally for the unexpectedness of things including, but not limited to, the whims of teenagers. The math classes I taught were almost second nature to me in terms of content, and so that was one fewer struggle I had to have.

Now, in law school, I don't feel like I understand much at all, and everyone around me is very intelligent. And, strangely enough, I finally think I understand why some corps members are unable to handle the pressures of teaching. A lot of people say that leading a classroom is the first time they are ever failures at something. (And it doesn't help to know that there are others who are rocking in their classrooms while you're still getting your bearings.) I felt that sometimes, especially my first year, but it was never to the point of wanting to quit because I knew that for all my ineptitude, my being there was still productive, however marginally, for my kids. My management wasn't horrible (most days), and I could feel myself improving week after week (most of the time). Mentally, I was able to compartmentalize teaching and life, as in, just because I sucked at teaching sometimes, it didn't mean I sucked at life, too.

I think I was lucky in that sense. It's only now that I have trouble differentiating school and life. The first time I gave a wrong answer in class, I could not stop thinking about it. It took nearly a day to get over it and realize it was only a big deal to me - and would only be a big deal if I continued to make it one. I thought teaching made me develop a thick skin, but it turns out that because I didn't fail enough at teaching apparently, my skin is still pretty thin.

I never thought of myself as having self-esteem issues or confidence issues. It's not like I'm used to being the best and all of a sudden, I'm not. (This was an oft-cited reason for the TFA strugglebus, too.) The last time I felt like I was the best at something was probably 9th grade geometry, when I got a 100 on the midterm. (Yes, I still remember that, because who forgets victories like that? I still remember asking my teacher if he was sure! It's a damn shame we have to remember failures just as vividly. Refraction, anyone?) Since then, I have hovered in high mediocrity, not something I am proud of in the least, and so I don't know why I'm so uncomfortable with law school. I keep telling myself that other law students at other schools are going through the same classes I'm going through, and there are plenty of people out there already who are lawyers who must have gone through what I'm going through, so if they can do it, I can do it, but it doesn't help all that much.

I guess part of this weird drifting feeling is that I don't know where I stand. We have one exam at the end of the semester that counts as our whole grade for the course, so until then, I'm just stuck in my own mind about whether what I'm doing is enough to do well.

Still, law school is enjoyable, for the most part. Like undergrad, and as expected, I am getting more joy out of things I am doing outside of the classroom. I really like the people in my study group and all the other people I've met through classes, clubs, or connections. I like the groups I've chosen to participate in, and I am excited about getting to do pro bono work and learn more about what practicing lawyers do.

Bottom line: Teaching was hard, and I didn't quit, because I knew I was going to get better. My kids deserved the better me. Law school is hard, and I'm not quitting, because I know I'm going to get better. I deserve a better me.