No one prepared me for this.

There are parts of my job that no one told me about.

There are parts of my job that I wasn't adequately trained for.

There are parts of my job that I don't even know are my job yet.

But one part of my job that no one told me about is probably one of the biggest burdens of my career.

Kids will look up to you.

I suppose no one had to tell me that. I really should have known it from experience. I was the sort of student who put my teachers on a pedestal. They could do no wrong. I studied their interactions with students. I attempted (poorly) to copy their humor. I internalized their passion for education.

But it's totally different when you realize a kid looks up to you.

I got a text message from a former student who is now in the military. He was the kid who from day one of his senior year was the class clown. He loved to make people laugh, and was so good at doing it. He especially loved to make people laugh at teachers' expenses. He and I went multiple rounds until we had a 'come to Jesus' meeting and found a common understanding. He needed to graduate, and therefore needed my class. After we sort of leveled with each other, he spent more time in my classroom than anywhere else. He spent time in my room when he was supposed to be in other classes. He bought me lunch when I forgot my lunch money. He would correct other students if they'd curse in front of me and tell them, "Watch your mouth. Don't disrespect my teacher." We took pictures together at his prom. When he graduated, I got the biggest hug. I heard from him a few months after graduation and he told me he was in the Army. They were training him to become a dental hygenist. The same kid that no one thought would pass my class, and some even laughed at me for supporting. I was so proud.

He texted me not too long ago, though, just to say hi and check-in. He said he was starting college classes in the Fall and that he may need my help. I told him that I'd do whatever I could to help him. And then the bombs dropped.

"I'm pretty sure I may run into some questions thru out college so I wont hesitate to ask you, b/c it seems like you have the answer to everything."

Wait.

What?

I am 26 years old. 8 years older than he is. I have debt. I have baggage. I have made make mistakes. I let people down. I don't always keep my promises.

And this kid thinks that I know what's up.

No one prepared me for the weight that hit my shoulders the instant I read that text message. I mean, yeah, I sort of always understood it;  there is responsibility that comes with teaching. Don't post stupid pictures on the internet. Don't curse in front of the children.  Don't let the kids see you stumble. 'Fake it 'til you make it' was/is a common phrase in my vocabulary. But this....this was different. I don't teach this kid anymore. He has no responsibility to me. But he looks up to me.

Me...who sometimes barely holds it together with dental floss. Me.

No one prepared me for this....not really. In school they talk about the importance of relationships with students and how they are so wonderful, but no one talks about how they REALLY change your life. Forever. There is such a sweet bliss in having a great connection with a student like this, but there is also such a burden. I was told once not to take too much of my job home, because I could not fix my students and their problems. While I do agree there is some substance to that, this burden is not one that leaves my shoulders at 3:45 every day and from June-August.

As a new school year rolls around and we start to envision how we want this year to be, I hope that I am able to remember the weight of my burden and that I grow stronger because of it. I hope you pick up the yolk and realize that, wanted or not, students will look up to you. Broken, ragged, incapable, unorganized, unqualified you.

How lucky are you to be that person for them?

No one told me it would be like this, and I'm sort of glad they didn't.

I wouldn't have believed them anyway.