So You Think You're a Teacher
I have been teaching English and American Civilization for a month now. Well, what I mean is, I've been standing in front of classes of ten to twenty-five students on a daily basis. I've demanded good behaviour. I've expounded on the delicacies of English Grammar. My students have participated in activities designed to inspire interest and the desire to express oneself. And I've done it all in English. So, though some may disagree, I think this qualifies me as an English teacher.
Sometimes I feel that I'm doing a good job. Take yesterday for example. Yesterday was Teacher's Day. It is the day when students take over the adults' jobs, "to give them a rest." The students give flowers to their teachers, and say very nice things to them, like, "We hope you'll be our teacher all the way til the 12th grade" and "I'm so glad you came to be our teacher" and "Your class is the most interesting and important of all my classes." Very possibly it is a large load of first class fertilizer. But JUST possibly, there is a glimmer of truth in some of it.
As students traipsed into my class all day with flowers and small gifts, and nervously delivered speeches of beautiful words (a Moldovan hallmark), I couldn't help but feel my heart fill up. Sometimes the student was alone, which meant that the individual student bought a flower just for me. Sometimes they came in a group, which meant that the class had pooled money to buy a flower for each one of their teachers, and they were delivering the flowers to each teacher in turn.
I couldn't tell if it was done out of obligation, or if they really meant it. I'm such a sap that I tend to believe it all, thus accounting for several close calls with teary eyes in front of my students. But I'm growing wiser as each year passes, and I've learned that even the best of intentions go astray.
So today I was not too surprised, or even very disappointed, when I had to reprimand one class for collapsing into total chaos when I left them alone for several minutes (I returned to my class to find students on top of desks, ready to hit each other with chairs, yelling at the top of their lungs...) Nor did it phase me when I tried to lock my classroom door at the end of today, only to find that someone had jammed the lock with match sticks...
Retaliation for bad marks? Backlash because the students were tired from their exemplary behaviour yesterday? Acting out because the routine had been interupted and the normal restraints were not present? I'm learning that to be a teacher means one thing. But to be a good teacher means being a master of my subject, a master of drama, and a master psychologist. Lord, help me, but I'm learning.
It also helps if you can read minds and have eyes in the back of your head. For all of you teachers out there, can you direct me to the nearest teaching supply store where I can find these supplies? Directions much appreciated.
Sometimes I feel that I'm doing a good job. Take yesterday for example. Yesterday was Teacher's Day. It is the day when students take over the adults' jobs, "to give them a rest." The students give flowers to their teachers, and say very nice things to them, like, "We hope you'll be our teacher all the way til the 12th grade" and "I'm so glad you came to be our teacher" and "Your class is the most interesting and important of all my classes." Very possibly it is a large load of first class fertilizer. But JUST possibly, there is a glimmer of truth in some of it.
As students traipsed into my class all day with flowers and small gifts, and nervously delivered speeches of beautiful words (a Moldovan hallmark), I couldn't help but feel my heart fill up. Sometimes the student was alone, which meant that the individual student bought a flower just for me. Sometimes they came in a group, which meant that the class had pooled money to buy a flower for each one of their teachers, and they were delivering the flowers to each teacher in turn.
I couldn't tell if it was done out of obligation, or if they really meant it. I'm such a sap that I tend to believe it all, thus accounting for several close calls with teary eyes in front of my students. But I'm growing wiser as each year passes, and I've learned that even the best of intentions go astray.
So today I was not too surprised, or even very disappointed, when I had to reprimand one class for collapsing into total chaos when I left them alone for several minutes (I returned to my class to find students on top of desks, ready to hit each other with chairs, yelling at the top of their lungs...) Nor did it phase me when I tried to lock my classroom door at the end of today, only to find that someone had jammed the lock with match sticks...
Retaliation for bad marks? Backlash because the students were tired from their exemplary behaviour yesterday? Acting out because the routine had been interupted and the normal restraints were not present? I'm learning that to be a teacher means one thing. But to be a good teacher means being a master of my subject, a master of drama, and a master psychologist. Lord, help me, but I'm learning.
It also helps if you can read minds and have eyes in the back of your head. For all of you teachers out there, can you direct me to the nearest teaching supply store where I can find these supplies? Directions much appreciated.
posted by Emily at 1:52 PM
2 Comments:
A great post. Thank you for sharing. The very fact you made some of these comments show you are a great teacher.
Thanks for the encouragement. I have a feeling that life as a teacher is going to provide more stories than there is room for on any webpage! The internal machinations of a 7th grader are currently a mystery to me. But it is a new adventure to learn the balance between teaching a subject and teaching people.
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