In May 2018, I started a new role as a physical education teacher in Washington DC.

I left Loudoun County, Virginia, where I’d taught for 11 years. Loudoun is a special place for many reasons: the outdoor opportunities, the indoor entertainment, the restaurants, breweries and wineries. The school system is one of the best in the country, and is expanding every year at an astonishing rate.

People told me I was crazy for considering a position teaching 6 to 12-year-olds in Washington.

I’d always kept an eye out for what was available, but I wasn’t actively looking for a new job. But this all changed when I was told that one school needed a PE teacher immediately, and that they thought I’d be a good fit. I hoped that making the move would ignite a new passion for teaching, and provide me with new challenges that would improve my practice.

I decided to take it. I couldn’t have been more right about the challenge.

In the first weeks, I navigated the tearing up of equipment, tearing up of paper assignments, constantly getting sworn at, students swinging heavy workout equipment at my head, and students getting right in my face with fists balled up saying they would “beat my ass”.

I reacted with a calm temperament, but the student behaviour between May and the end of term was dangerous and downright scary.

I would have three heart-pounding periods of middle school, followed by one period of teaching high school students. The high school period was a reprieve from the racially charged tirades and swear words of the obviously angry middle school students I taught.

The stark difference in behaviour between middle and high school was an odd aspect of each day. The high school students would be on task, respectful and would allow for our class to progress in a manner that was inspiring, especially in contrast to the first 75 per cent of my day.

The teacher I had replaced had, sadly, passed away. There was a month of substitute teachers before my arrival.

The students’ schedules had been rearranged, they had lost their teacher, their lessons were inconsistent, it was the last month-and-a-half of the school year, and then I arrived.

Rationally, I could understand how things could be so difficult. Emotionally processing the recent events for middle school students, without lashing out in some way, was a lot to ask of them.

Being a veteran of the classroom, a National Board certified teacher, having completed school leader training and having taught other teachers how to implement specific strategies for student engagement, I felt I should be doing a better job taking over in this seemingly impossible situation.

I resolved to finish the year, and engross myself in this new opportunity as much as possible. At least I could say I gave it my personal best in doing so. I obtained a contract with the school for the next year. I taught a summer programme at the school for incoming sixth grade students, and coached baseball and softball over the summer. I had a few days off that amounted to around a week and a half over the summer.

The new school year started in August and nearly everything has now changed. I feel accomplished and competent. The students are achieving in my class, and are respectful to me and their classmates. We are active, learn something new every period, and develop character throughout all of our processes.

On most days, I get to work around 7.30am and try to get as much done as possible before other staff and students get there. I help out with a before school movement programme for the middle school students, and the official school day starts with back-to-back middle school classes, a planning period, a high school class, lunch and a final high school class.

After school, I am involved with various activities, and my hope is to create a clear set of responsibilities to maintain meaningful involvement as soon as possible. I want to coach baseball again this spring, and teach high school credit recovery classes after school a few days a week. The days click along at a frenetic pace with all sorts of distractions, off task behaviours, disruptions in schedules, and on, and on. But that’s teaching. That is life in an inner city school. And in the process, we are all learning, and in most cases, conducting ourselves with pride, poise and perseverance; one of the school’s points of emphasis.

Kristian Ellingsen is a physical education teacher in Washington DC.