It'll be a sunny day, as they often are at that time of year. Very warm. This is Chicago, after all. I'll drive, or maybe I'll take the train. I'll have been up for hours already, planning, projecting, hoping.
Hoping to make a difference. A connection. Well, maybe in the long run. But that first day, I'll just be hoping to make it through. Hoping that my excitement is contagious.
Today I was asked what I think about when I imagine my first day, teaching my own class. My first response was, "The first impression, of course." You see, I'm majoring in secondary education, my plan is to teach teenagers. Most people cringe at that thought. And let's face it, kids are like wild dogs, they can smell fear. So I'm hoping my first impression comes off as confident and capable. Not nervous and new. Anything but nervous and new. I wonder whether I'll land in a middle school, trying to teach pre-teens about the world around them. Or if I'll be in a high school, getting ready to talk about the constitution.
Or maybe I'll be a nervous mess, praying I don't puke on my way in.......
1 comment:
And that's why I couldn't be a teacher to teenagers. First off: They'd think I was one of them. Secondly: I apparently don't put off a be-afraid-of-me vibe. And third: I'd run. I don't like teenagers.
Post a Comment