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Sometimes I'm not at my best

I was a very poor teacher yesterday afternoon. Well, actually I was a very good teacher for all but one of my students. But for that one lesson I was no good at all.

I should know better. After all, I'm old and experienced and I usually practice what I preach.

But I've been fighting a cold all week and my throat was sore and I wasn't feeling great.

Been there? I thought so.

Transient

Sabine wouldn't read the notes. I mean, she really wouldn't read the notes. She was looking at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at the music. And yet, I persisted. I didn't have the energy to do anything else. I didn't have the extra mental power to think up another alternative. (Mind you, this is the same girl that inspired the Sight Reading Flashcards.) Yesterday was not a day when I was inspired to create something great. Or even something mediocre.

I hate it when I don't practice what I preach. I can't stand it when I don't give a student what they need. Why didn't I jump Sabine up off the bench and run the stairs with her? Why didn't I play a clapping game? Why didn't I get out the magnets or the white board or the floppy flower thumb puppets or the ladybug or the big rubber bands or any other toys?

Because I wasn't at the top of my game.  I didn't feel quite well enough to both think of an alternative and do it.

Next week? I will be ready with at least seventeen different options for teaching her reading and getting her focused. I'll be ready for the challenge.

Sometimes I have to cut myself some slack. Being the best teacher I can be means accepting the fact that sometimes I'm not at my best.

The Titanic

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