It’s this strange thing – but whenever I go to visit people I haven’t seen in ages, they always recognize me. Even if it’s been 10 years, one look and they’re calling me by name. For whatever reason, I’m always surprised. Do I look the same, even after all these years? Am I somehow memorable in a way I don’t realize?
Yesterday instead of teaching, I spent time in other classes to observe the methods and practices the other instructors were using. Sort of an "on-the-job training" thing to gain perspective. It was interesting, but it became instantly clear that there are just tons of things that I should be doing differently. The first year of teaching is supposed to be hard and filled with uncertainty, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a little frustrating to see other teachers who seemed to have such a better idea of what they were doing, and how to control their classes. Somehow the whole thing made me feel isolated in my inexperience.
…In truth, it kinda bummed me out.
Later in the day after all of my observations were done, I took a short trip out to my old school to see if I could catch up with my old 8th grade teacher.
I’ve had many inspiring teachers in my life, but one of the people that sticks out the most was Meg Hawley. There probably isn’t enough room on the web to list all the things we did in that class, both inside and outside of the rules. It was one of those classes where things stuck, stories you read lingered, and friendships were made to last.
It was there that I first met Gristina.
It was there that I started to believe that I could be a writer.
The old school looks a lot different these days, but when I caught a glimpse of Meg heading down the hall towards me, it was like nothing had changed at all.
The look in her eyes was priceless, especially when she discovered what I was doing for a living now. That infamous smirk, the unspoken roll of the eyes. I half expected her to break into her Lily Tomlin impression.
I observed a lot of teachers yesterday. Sat in a lot of classes, and saw a lot of places where I’m coming up short. But then I told a special person that their inspiration had led me to follow in their footsteps.
…And I got to see a look that told me that I had done at least one thing right.
Yesterday instead of teaching, I spent time in other classes to observe the methods and practices the other instructors were using. Sort of an "on-the-job training" thing to gain perspective. It was interesting, but it became instantly clear that there are just tons of things that I should be doing differently. The first year of teaching is supposed to be hard and filled with uncertainty, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a little frustrating to see other teachers who seemed to have such a better idea of what they were doing, and how to control their classes. Somehow the whole thing made me feel isolated in my inexperience.
…In truth, it kinda bummed me out.
Later in the day after all of my observations were done, I took a short trip out to my old school to see if I could catch up with my old 8th grade teacher.
I’ve had many inspiring teachers in my life, but one of the people that sticks out the most was Meg Hawley. There probably isn’t enough room on the web to list all the things we did in that class, both inside and outside of the rules. It was one of those classes where things stuck, stories you read lingered, and friendships were made to last.
It was there that I first met Gristina.
It was there that I started to believe that I could be a writer.
The old school looks a lot different these days, but when I caught a glimpse of Meg heading down the hall towards me, it was like nothing had changed at all.
The look in her eyes was priceless, especially when she discovered what I was doing for a living now. That infamous smirk, the unspoken roll of the eyes. I half expected her to break into her Lily Tomlin impression.
I observed a lot of teachers yesterday. Sat in a lot of classes, and saw a lot of places where I’m coming up short. But then I told a special person that their inspiration had led me to follow in their footsteps.
…And I got to see a look that told me that I had done at least one thing right.