I'm not going to lie.
I know that there are certain people *cough* mother *cough*, who would appreciate a small white lie here... One such as "by golly, teaching is rewarding, I'm just loving the challenge", but alas, I cannot. Though lying would probably be the most considerate option in this particular situation, I have far too much respect for the people I love to lie to them.
So here it is... Uncensored. It was tough. Really, really tough. Not the kind of 'challenging' tough that makes you feel really wholesome and fulfilled at the end of the day, the kind that leaves a smile on your face as you walk home... It's the kind of tough that makes you want to run out of the classroom multiple times a day and walk home completely exhausted, only to crumple into a heap in bed and reconsider your life choices. It's not as though I expected an epiphany or enlightening moment whilst teaching (though I would have happily embraced one), but it would have been nice. Comforting, even.
It's lucky that I'm a tough cookie, and have enough comfort from other sources (ie. D), to survive without that fuzzy warm feeling of being an amazing teacher. Hopefully that fuzzy feeling isn't too many months of teaching away. But until then, I have a delicious tea supply, a polka dot mug, a solid supply of rice crackers, a cosy Bambi jumper and a fiancé who keeps me entertained with his terrible puns, dad jokes and comically timed farts.
I'm far too practical to get emotional... Even before I left home, I managed to keep it together pretty well because the more I thought about it, the more I realised that getting emotional was unnecessary. It's the same way I feel now. It would be all too easy to sit down and cry about it all, but it wouldn't really achieve much and I have enough perspective to know that this is only temporary.
Basically the routine at the moment is to arrive at Wimbledon station (a twenty minute walk away) at seven in the morning and call the agency to find out which school and which year group we'll be teaching. We then have to figure out which combination of trains, tubes and trams to catch in order to get to the school and navigate from the station to the school. This is a recipe for disaster in my case, as I am, not only navigationally challenged (to put it lightly), but have no concept of direction, timing or understanding of the London transport system. It seems simple enough, but I find it equally as stressful to navigate to the school, as it is to walk into the classroom with no planning and little experience.
Needless to say, I am looking forward to having a permanent position. Particularly come winter time when it's dark and cold while you navigate your way to and from school. That idea doesn't thrill me... I'll stick it out until then. I'll turn up at different schools everyday, knowing that even though it's hard, I'm gaining valuable experience. Unfortunately the phrase 'it gets easier with time', doesn't really apply here, because you never know what you'll get. I've had some amazing days, where I feel I'm really doing what I love, and others where I've questioned my own ability. There's no steady progression, no exponential graph of enjoyment. It's more like a scatter graph. Completely random with no apparent correlation between time and happiness.
Some day soon, I'll have a class of my own. One that I'll instill my values and optimism into. Everyday that I step into a classroom filled with such negativity and little respect for others, I am reminded how badly I want to have my own space, filled with happy little kids, learning new things everyday. So if there's anything I can take away from the bad days, it's that...
Xxo
I know that there are certain people *cough* mother *cough*, who would appreciate a small white lie here... One such as "by golly, teaching is rewarding, I'm just loving the challenge", but alas, I cannot. Though lying would probably be the most considerate option in this particular situation, I have far too much respect for the people I love to lie to them.
So here it is... Uncensored. It was tough. Really, really tough. Not the kind of 'challenging' tough that makes you feel really wholesome and fulfilled at the end of the day, the kind that leaves a smile on your face as you walk home... It's the kind of tough that makes you want to run out of the classroom multiple times a day and walk home completely exhausted, only to crumple into a heap in bed and reconsider your life choices. It's not as though I expected an epiphany or enlightening moment whilst teaching (though I would have happily embraced one), but it would have been nice. Comforting, even.
It's lucky that I'm a tough cookie, and have enough comfort from other sources (ie. D), to survive without that fuzzy warm feeling of being an amazing teacher. Hopefully that fuzzy feeling isn't too many months of teaching away. But until then, I have a delicious tea supply, a polka dot mug, a solid supply of rice crackers, a cosy Bambi jumper and a fiancé who keeps me entertained with his terrible puns, dad jokes and comically timed farts.
I'm far too practical to get emotional... Even before I left home, I managed to keep it together pretty well because the more I thought about it, the more I realised that getting emotional was unnecessary. It's the same way I feel now. It would be all too easy to sit down and cry about it all, but it wouldn't really achieve much and I have enough perspective to know that this is only temporary.
Basically the routine at the moment is to arrive at Wimbledon station (a twenty minute walk away) at seven in the morning and call the agency to find out which school and which year group we'll be teaching. We then have to figure out which combination of trains, tubes and trams to catch in order to get to the school and navigate from the station to the school. This is a recipe for disaster in my case, as I am, not only navigationally challenged (to put it lightly), but have no concept of direction, timing or understanding of the London transport system. It seems simple enough, but I find it equally as stressful to navigate to the school, as it is to walk into the classroom with no planning and little experience.
Needless to say, I am looking forward to having a permanent position. Particularly come winter time when it's dark and cold while you navigate your way to and from school. That idea doesn't thrill me... I'll stick it out until then. I'll turn up at different schools everyday, knowing that even though it's hard, I'm gaining valuable experience. Unfortunately the phrase 'it gets easier with time', doesn't really apply here, because you never know what you'll get. I've had some amazing days, where I feel I'm really doing what I love, and others where I've questioned my own ability. There's no steady progression, no exponential graph of enjoyment. It's more like a scatter graph. Completely random with no apparent correlation between time and happiness.
Some day soon, I'll have a class of my own. One that I'll instill my values and optimism into. Everyday that I step into a classroom filled with such negativity and little respect for others, I am reminded how badly I want to have my own space, filled with happy little kids, learning new things everyday. So if there's anything I can take away from the bad days, it's that...
Xxo