On Never Wanting to Be a Teacher

I grew up in a family full of educators. Almost every adult in my family has been a teacher of some kind at some point of their life. Whether it was my Nana who taught in Saint Louis Public Schools for decades, or my Uncle who, throughout my elementary school years, would sneak attack me with multiplication drills whenever he was in town. (I am certain he is the sole reason I know my 7 multiplication table as well as I do).  

My upbringing and education taught me the value of teachers from a young age. I recognized the importance of appreciating and respecting my teachers. One of the worst things I could do in school—which would surely get me in a ton of trouble at home —was disrespecting a teacher or authority figure. The adults in my family made sure I understood, as much as my young mind could, that my teachers worked hard because they cared about me and that I would not get far in life I did not learn the lessons they strived for me to understand.  

I was lucky to have a educational upbringing full of amazing teachers both young and old. They were passionate about their subjects and their students and they made me excited to learn the knowledge they passed on. I looked up to my teachers, even in the subjects I hated, because they would be just as excited as I was when a concept finally clicked and my confidence grew in the subjects that I could never consider pursuing more than the level required to pass the grade that I was in.   

Because of my respect for their position and my love of school, teachers often really liked me. I looked forward to parent teacher conferences because they were like scheduled sessions of praise for me throughout my school years. This is not to say that I had amazing relationships with every teacher I ever encountered and succeeded in every class. There were definitely serious hiccups throughout my schooling experience: teachers who I did not like , teachers who did not like me, times when I failed, times when I did not work as hard as a should, times when I was told I would not succeed. When I got to college there were classes, and professors, and whole subjects that I absolutely and completely detested with such force that it shook me. However, all in all I had an overwhelmingly positive relationship with school and educators throughout my life as a student, even including all the failures, missteps, misunderstandings, and boredom that I inevitably encountered.

While I have always had respect for teachers, I never really desired to be one. From my view point teaching seemed like a ridiculously tiring occupation: you're on your feet all day, you're always in class, you have homework every night, each year a new sort of emotional rollercoaster, and you don’t even have that great of a paycheck. I saw the toll it took on the adults in my family, heard the stories of successes and failures in the classroom, and thought it’d be better that I become a doctor, lawyer, or business person; something with less homework and better pay. I know you must be thinking it is pretty ironic that I have this view on the profession,  seeing as I am currently a teacher. (Members of my family will find in doubly ironic because they always say I would make a wonderful teacher.) But honestly, this experience has almost solidified my desire to not be a teacher (at least so far). 

I have spent several weeks in the classroom at this point playing different roles: lead teacher, co-teacher, assistant teacher, and sole teacher. Every time I step into the classroom I am wracked with nerves. Even when I am relaxed I stumble over what I am going to say, how I am going to say it, and in what order I am supposed to say it. It makes it doubly difficult that at best my students understand most of what I am saying and at worst they are staring at me with blank (and slightly frightened) faces because not a single word of what I have said has gotten through. The combination of my tendency to talk too fast when I am nervous, my strange accent, and my lack of knowledge of BM phrases that are functional for the classroom, causes me to seriously struggle. Nevertheless, students get extremely pumped when I enter their classrooms  (or even walk past their classrooms), I basically cannot walk around my school without being greeted with a chorus of “hi teacher how are you?”.  It makes me feel like a celebrity and also sort of like an alien. 

Everyday I am shuffling between two distinct ideas I have about what my focus is supposed to be here: that I am supposed to ensure my students gain knowledge of the English language and gain confidence in using English, and that I am supposed to ensure that my students have fun in every class I lead. I still have yet to strike the right balance to make sure both of these things are happening at once, especially because getting me students to actually speak in full sentences is akin to pulling teeth. Not because they do not have the language but because they are so gripped by the insurmountable fear of being wrong that often they would rather say nothing than to pronounce something incorrectly. Typically I simply embarrass students into answering questions or reading passages. (I enjoy the tactic where you get everyone in class to chant and cheer and applaud the particular student who refuses to speak until they just have to stand up and read the damn sentence or just melt into the floor.) But even then it is extremely slow going. I make a point to being extremely encouraging when correcting students written and oral work but there’s only so much I can do.  I struggle with the idea that I am not doing the best to help students, even though they are enthusiastic and seem to have fun (most of the time) when I am leading a lesson I constructed for myself. I get the overwhelming sense that students like having me in class because I am just different from the regular teacher and not because my lessons are particularly fun, interesting, or enlightening. 

And then there is the difference between the actual resources I have at this school compared to the resources I was exposed to during my education. I was blessed to go to a school with a TON of resources: smart-boards, high speed internet, endless art supplies, laptops for every student, projectors and computers in every class room. At the school where I teach there is not a projector anywhere, the internet sometimes works, I cannot assume my students have access to internet or computers at their homes, the library is small, and any art supplies I need I will have to purchase and bring with me to class. So it makes it basically impossible to mimic many of the projects and lessons I did in high school even if I wanted to do them on a simpler scale. Add that to the fact that the majority of the time when I am planning a lesson for a class it is, at the most, a couple hours before the class starts and, at the least, walking to the classroom when I bump into the lead teacher and they ask me, “So what are we going to teach today?”. Add that to the fact that using art integration and creative expression in lessons is basically an alien concept in schools here (and basically the only way I know how to teach) and it has me sweating (more so than the heat already does) and trying hard not to pull my hair out. It makes for a stressful situation to say the least. I do not say this to complain about the Malaysian Education system or to brag about the schools I attended, but just to say that it is layer of being a foreign teacher that impacts my ability to be an effective teacher. Naturally, I anticipated that I would have challenges adjusting to and fitting my abilities into the system of my school, but it was not until I had to operate in a school that was vastly different from my own experience that I realized how much the teachers I had influenced my understanding of what teaching looks like and what it means to be a good teacher. 

But to be clear, this is not my way of telling you guys that I am quitting or giving up. I have never in my life felt so consistently exhausted both physically and mentally. I get home at the end of the day and just collapse into a chair at the kitchen table for hours before pulling myself up to workout and make dinner for myself. In the mornings I drag myself out of bed cursing my schedule that forces me to be up and out of the house before the sun rises. But I get so much joy from spending time with my students, it is amazing to watch them open up to me more and more as the weeks have passed. This work is like a complicated puzzle and when the pieces fit together and students understand me and enjoy what we are doing and are broadening their confidence and skills, it is an incredible high. But just like when solving a complicated puzzle, most of the time the pieces don't fit and I'm constantly turning and twisting (and flipping and standing on my head and doing backbends) to get my students understand me and encourage them to use full sentences. 

When I express my insecurities and downfalls to friends and family in education they assure me that a lot of my nerves about being affective, being likable, being engaging, being respected etc are super common, especially for new teachers. And I know they say it to make me feel better but it honestly doesn’t. It just makes me feel a little crazy for thinking I could do this in the first place. It makes me even more sure about my decision to never choose a career in teaching full time.

More than anything this experience has given me a serious reality check to the struggles educators go through. When I get home from school I often talk to my roommates about how in awe I am about the strength of character (and physical strength) teachers have to have. I am not even a real teacher, I don’t have to deal with so much that an actual teacher must deal with and I am completely overwhelmed every single day. But at the same time, the moments of joy and appreciation are so warm and genuine from students that I do get a glimpse into the reasoning behind why teachers go to work everyday.  

If nothing else this experience so far has renewed my belief that education is power and my respect for the people who decide to make education their life’s mission. I have always appreciated my teachers, mostly because I was raised to. Now that respect is colored with a sense of understanding that I did not have before. When I think about all the teachers I had in my life I feel both awe and gratitude. I did not understand the  magnitude of the sacrifice they were giving to me. Not only did they share their knowledge but they gave me their sleep, their happiness, their mental health, their physical well being, their relationships, their free time, their money and all they asked for in return was that I made my best effort. Teaching is a profession of altruism. Teachers, everyday, expect to give more than they receive. It takes a strength of character of heroic proportions. I have always thought back to my favorite classes and teachers with fondness, but now even the classes I completely hated and felt like pure torture when I was in them are colored with a new sense of appreciation and genuine pleasure for having gone through them. 

If I could implore you to do something it would be this simple thing. The next time you take moment to be appreciative, to thank the people who sacrificed for your success. Remember to think of your teachers, from both in and out of the classroom, who gave themselves to you knowing full well and not minding one bit that you might never understand the gift they were giving to you and how much of themselves came with it. 

Thank you for all the educators who modeled what a good teacher was for me. More than anything I hope that I can make you proud!