On Becoming a Teacher...

I had never imagined that I would be a teacher. Wait, that is a lie. In high school the idea cross my mind. Actually, I wanted to become one. Somehow in high school, the idea had been planted and it sounded appealing. As a young idealist, I dreamt of touching student's minds and hearts.

 I aspired to teach because I wanted to inspire young people. I even remember coming home and yelling out, 'I'm going to be a teacher!', and having raised eyebrows as a response. And just like the idea came to mind uninvited, it left also without warning. The business of life and thoughts of other worthy careers took its place in a smooth transition. Little did I know that fifteen years later, the prophecy will come true.

I'm becoming a teacher and I have a bag load of emotions. Yes, in a way, some of them are the same ones that came to me as a teenager. The love to change and touch lives resides there as if it had never left before. Some things in life never do change or maybe we forget about them, I don't know, the point is that they are forever new. In the bag though, I also find anxiety, terror, nervousness, fear, concern, and many other things that make the bag a little heavy. 'It will be tough' people say, 'You will find no peace,' they warn me. To the sea of obstacles that come with the profession, I have chosen to be a teacher in an inner-city high need Baltimore high school. The good thing is that the warnings and concerns turn to silent responses when people hear of this.

I am not a big believer in destiny. Every time people speak of it I hear it in a cheesy way. 'It was meant to be' or 'everything happens for a reason' don't carry much meaning for me. So when I find myself asking, well how many people do get to do what they dreamed of as kids? Well, I am not sure. Some kids have much wilder dreams than others and also kids want to be something else every day. You make the calculations and make sure to carry the addition and by no means forget to round up and you get, well, who knows. Some people say that the key is never to stop dreaming, I find this a little less cheesy.

Soon I will be in front of twenty pairs of eyes staring back at me choreographed. I will move to the left and they will move with me. To the right and it will take them a little longer, and yup, they go to the right. Scary thought. Not the eyes staring back but the responsibility and accountability to all my students. The fine line that there is between authority and the abuse of power, the delicate process to motivate and inspire. All these things cross my mind, what teacher will I be? Will I be successful? Will my students be successful? Will they really stare back all the time?

I also think of all teachers. They all had their first year. In addition, I think of all my colleagues, who just like, will be teaching their first year. We are together in this. Not that being together on a sinking boat is a good situation for anybody, but hey, nothing like the feeling of helpless resignation with your fellow human being to create a fussy warm feeling inside. I pause. I do think of all teachers. Not only those who I remember first, for having a special place in my life. No, not only them. I think of all the teachers that had to do with my upbringing. That’s a lot of them, I find myself thinking. Then, I think of all the ones that taught those that I love, the teachers that educated my siblings and my parents and my grandparents. I think of the work of their hands day in and day out. One thing seems to surface the cloud of consciousness, it must be worth it.

To teach. Sometimes I equate this with, to learn. They go hand in hand. It would make sense then, that those that are excellent at teaching would be excellent in learning. To master anything, we have to become like children. Every time we enter a place and a ground that is unknown, where everything is foreign, you ask, you fall, you imitate, you try again and eventually you learn. (Yes, some fall over and over again but you have to believe they are learning with each fall and others want to avoid the pain of falling and carry an inflatable mattress to throw every time they think they will hit the ground) What if this is all it takes to be great? To have the humility to learn and to have the tenacity to get up. No, it’s not a motto or a banner, least of all a philosophy or pedagogy of learning or any other big word teachers use for the sake of increasing their lexicon or sounding too smart, it is not. I only think of it as the most important thing I want my students to learn. Nothing more, nothing less.

After all, when I give it some thought, that’s all I will want my students to learn. Life is tough. Life requires you to be humble. If you are humble, you will learn. If you learn to persevere, no obstacle is big enough. What a great lesson. That has to be rooted in a standard somewhere. In fact, I would like to cover that in Unit one of the first semester. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. The thing is though, that if I keep it in mind, I believe I will teach it somehow. I don’t know how. Maybe it will come out of my pores or out of my mouth at times—it will definitely be seen with my hands, yes, definitely with my hands. At times, a stare, a gentle act or a word of encouragement would do. I’m not sure, I can only hope that I could teach it.

I’m becoming a teacher. There will be no standing ovations or decorations. Only the success of your students—this seems to be enough. Indeed, that is enough.