I’m sitting in my (temporary practicum) desk in the Physical education office at 4:45 on a Friday afternoon. This will be the earliest I’ve been home all week (if I can get out of here any time in the next hour and a half).
I’ve dressed the part every day, stayed at school, planned, connected with students and stuff, and helped coach basketball practices. I’ve got the keys, the cloths, the plans, but I certainly don’t feel like a teacher yet. I can tell I’m going to like what I’m doing. Teaching was the right choice. Good job me, you finally figured it out! The people are good, I love connecting with students and helping them develop into human beings capable of walking this planet, but…
Wow it’s hard.
There are many things that seem natural and easy; being in the class and delivering in front of students seems to come naturally enough so far (perhaps I should reserve judgment on that as well), but there is so much more to that. It’s a task just trying to plan lessons, lessons with learning outcomes that will not only connect with students, but also engage them, and develop skills as well as help build more confident human. Add in to the equation that that lesson you planned for tomorrow needs to be completely revamped to meet the needs of your students. And all of these lessons need to link together and fit within a cohesive unit, and that unit needs to fit within a semester plan. And…
You get the picture, and that’s only the planning we’re talking about.
So. For every teacher, even the ones I thought weren’t so great. Wow you work hard. You have so uncountable pressures and considerations you need to consider every moment of the day: your students, your plans, the resources, make up work, classroom management, self-managing your own emotions and behaviours.
Thanks teachers, I hope to join your ranks some day. Keep working. You’re all pretty amazing.
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