This past weekend, my husband and our two oldest boys ran a Spartan race— a grueling race that includes running along dirt trails for a specific distance all while conquering obstacles along the way. The kids’ races ranged from 1-3K with 10 or so obstacles, and adult athletes could choose between a Sprint (5K + 20 obstacles), Super (10K + 25 obstacles), or the Beast (21K + 30 obstacles). The race course was at a ski resort, which meant steep hills and mountainous terrain. It was 90 degrees outside, and we were at a base elevation of 6,391 feet. It was indeed a test of mental and physical strength and stamina, and was certainly not for the feint of heart. It was truly inspiring to watch the athletes compete and overcome the challenges with which they were faced.
Some of the obstacles athletes were asked to complete were less intense (like crawling through a tube or crawling under a tunnel), while others were much more intense (such as lifting and carrying a 60 pound ball from one end of the obstacle area to the other and back again, the rope climb, or the inverted wall climb). The obstacles by themselves would be challenging, but not impossible; add in the above mentioned factors of temperature, terrain, elevation, and distance to run, and the obstacles suddenly become much more daunting.
As I’ve reflected on the race over the past couple of days, I couldn’t help but think about how the whole race experience relates to education. At the beginning of each school year, we are given a new set of students, each with their own abilities, talents, likes/dislikes, and interests. They each have their own race to run alongside their classmates, and they all have obstacles to overcome.
For some students, math may be their rope climb, where they find themselves finally making progress just to start slipping back down as a new concept is introduced. For others, science may be their inverted wall, difficult to gain traction on and overcome, while it may be a tunnel crawl for others, fairly easy to get through.
It was interesting to watch athletes help each other overcome obstacles. I watched as one friend easily made it over a set of 6 foot hurdles, only to turn around and go back to help her friend by offering a boost to get her started. I watched complete strangers finish the rope climb, then turn to offer strategies and advice to athletes before they took their turn on the rope. I watched as my husband helped another athlete get his footing during a sand bag pull. I was grateful for the four people, all strangers, who stopped and immediately helped my husband when his calves cramped up and he couldn’t walk. As my husband finished the race, two of those people who helped him were waiting for him at the finish line because they “just wanted to see him finish.” It became clear that the people offering help to others weren’t in the race to be the fastest or the strongest. They were there to prove to themselves that they could do it, and to help others do the same.
As our students learn and grow throughout the year, they are met with many challenges, and some may be in it for themselves, but most are not. Most kids are willing to help their classmates, be a friend, and cheer each other on. It’s remarkable to see the difference it can make when struggling students are boosted by their peers. There is a new light in their eyes when they see that other people believe in them and want them to succeed.
So while they may be running in the same race, not all students will face the challenges with the same ability or confidence. As teachers, we get the unique opportunity to help facilitate the kind of relationships within our classrooms that will encourage, build, uplift, and carry. We also get the chance to do those things ourselves for our students. We get a front row seat to see our students progress, learn, grow, and thrive. We get to be their cheerleaders, give them boosts, and provide them with tips and advice on how to conquer their challenges. And that, my friends, is one of the coolest parts of being a teacher.
