It’s funny to look back and think about my teachers. I can’t imagine any of them getting nervous before a class, but I do. Just about every time I teach a new lesson, I get nervous. Because I care. Will they participate? What will they have to say about this? Will they grasp the concept, understand what I’m teaching, walk away having learned something? Some days I wish I didn’t care- I think that teaching these little shits would be much easier if I didn’t care. But then I remember that I do (and I don’t know if it’s possible for me to stop) and when I look back at my favorite teachers, they did too. And I loved them not because their lessons were easy or fun or because they themselves were super cool- it was because they cared (and yes that usually resulted in their classes being fun and engaging and them being pretty cool, but that was a byproduct of their passion).
Post New Years Resolutions, my teachers have had a bizarre bevy of lesson requests. Currently I am teaching lessons ranging from the psychology of vampires, to murder mysteries, to environmental issues, to how the US political system works and the complexity of US gun culture. Sometimes it’s frustrating having a predetermined plan chosen for me, while other times I welcome the simplified springboard.
The days where the students participate, the time flies from engagement, and I feel as though my being here actually matters, are the days when I feel elated to have this profession. True, I am only a part-time assistant in a foreign country (and many days I am disrespectfully reminded of that fact), but to have the students get as involved in a lesson as I am, for them to yell I love you in the hallway (in a genuine and not hitting on me kind of way), for them to express actual sadness at the knowledge that I will only be here a for a few more months, and for them to yell at incoming classes that they are not ready to stop my lessons- those moments are priceless.
And I am grateful for these moments. For the time that the confused student who constantly blurts “what do you speak??” actually learned ‘I don’t understand’, or the time I teared up (just a little) from a student’s perfect synthesis of what I had just taught on gay marriage, or that I could trust my students enough to blindfold me and prove their knowledge of verbal directions as they led me through a classroom maze, or for the knowledge that came with mock mystery investigations- that it’s possible to play and teach at the same time. I appreciate even the bizarre little moments, when one student oh so earnestly asked, ““uh madame…can you ear zat I ave uh accente?”, or when a peculiar student insistently declared that she “was batman”. These good and…weird moments make those days when I wonder “why do teachers do this to themselves!?” fade away.
Fortunately today was one of those days and I’m so happy it was. As I start to see the finish line of the TAPIF program and waiver back and forth between “dear god let’s speed up to the end already!” and “but I’m not ready to go!!”, it’s nice to have days like today where I’m happy to be here now. Here’s hoping these moments continue to stay strongly in the forefront of my memory.