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As a high school English teacher, I am surrounded by stories. We analyze, interpret, break down, annotate, struggle through some of the most famous pieces of canonical literature daily. And yet, I wish more stories were told in my classroom. By my students.

Sometimes I think we forget that students have lives outside of our walls. Our content is the most important to us, so we think it should be most important to them. But my English class is just a tiny fraction of who they are as people.

It is both a blessing and a curse that I work where I do. I have an amazing group of kids that amaze me every single day with how they see the world. They have, for the most part, families that support their student’s education and provide opportunities for their students to grow and thrive. However, this support often leads to pressure to be perfect. My school is one of the most academically competitive schools in the area and while that means I have kids who are driven to succeed, they often feel like their truth is lost in the process.

Some of the best and most rewarding days are where I get to hear my student’s stories.

Recently I had to have a tough conversation with an AP Literature student. He wanted to drop my class because he didn’t make the Top 20. He was crushed. 13 years of his life had, to him, been pointless because he consistently was a top achiever. He told me that the stress and workload of my class were no longer worth it to him because it “didn’t matter anymore.” He wanted to focus on baseball and potentially get a scholarship so he could afford to pay for a specific Tier One Texas school with a great engineering program.

I asked him what he wanted to do:

“My dad wants me to be a biomedical engineer.”

My dad wants…

Ok, but what do you want to do? 

He wants to be a philosophy major. He wants to contemplate existentialism and human nature. He wants to do everything we are doing in AP Literature. His story is complicated. His family’s story is complicated. And I would have never known if he hadn’t told me he wanted to drop my class.

These conversations and these days don’t happen enough. We are too busy racing through a curriculum that is designed by test makers to stop and talk about what they think is important. How their lives are affected by what we teach.

Unfortunately, I only get to learn a small of my student’s stories. And honestly, most of the time they break my heart. But more stories need to be told in my classroom. Those stories make me a better teacher. They make us better people. My kids need to feel heard in a community that pushes them to perfection without taking into consideration that their imperfections are what make them awesome.

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