I am coming to the end of my Special Methods class. I’m one step closer to being inside of an actual classroom, and I’m absolutely terrified.
I have question upon question to ask. There is so much I don’t know.
I do know that no amount of preparation in college will be adequate for the classroom. I know that my first year of teaching will consist mostly of flailing madly in the ocean. I know that there will be periods of calm, and I know that I will be tossed about the waves, coughing up water.
I know that I am a control freak. I know that messy = learning. I know that there is a difference between learning and compliance. I know that I need to have faith in my students and their process. I know that through the mess, there will be beauty.
I know that there is no child that cannot be reached. I know that change is a process, and that children do not change overnight. I know that a person who truly cares will make a difference.
I know that I will cry. I will shed tears of joy, pain, empathy, and stress. Some nights, I’ll carry the day home with me on my shoulders. My eyes will be puffy for the student I just can’t seem to reach. My throat will tighten and my eyes will threaten to spill over for a student who has that long-awaited “aha moment.”
I know my first year of teaching will be terrifying, challenging, and exhilarating. Just as I am doing now, I will have to take it one day at a time.
I will try and remind myself daily what I want to accomplish as a teacher. I will read blogs like this again. Despite whatever madness and chaos I’m immersed in, I will remember what I set out wanting to accomplish.