Why I am a teacher
At ten past three today, I was exhausted. I yawned as I dismissed my class, and I was dreading the fact that I had booked an after school lesson with the sixth form pupil who is taking AS Level Further Maths, because all I wanted to do was come home and curl up with a mug of tea and a good book.
By half past four I was feeling lively and enthusiastic, thoroughly enjoying muddling our way through Second Order Differential Equations, casting my mind back to when I was taught all this a few years ago, reeling off the applications of Differential Equations we learned about at university, covering the whiteboard with manic scrawl to try to solve the problems from the book, rubbing out my mistakes until I had a big black mark on the back of my hand. And being thanked at the end of the session for giving up my time and explaining so well.
It's lessons like that which remind me that 13 weeks of holiday each year is not the only reason I wanted to be a teacher.
By half past four I was feeling lively and enthusiastic, thoroughly enjoying muddling our way through Second Order Differential Equations, casting my mind back to when I was taught all this a few years ago, reeling off the applications of Differential Equations we learned about at university, covering the whiteboard with manic scrawl to try to solve the problems from the book, rubbing out my mistakes until I had a big black mark on the back of my hand. And being thanked at the end of the session for giving up my time and explaining so well.
It's lessons like that which remind me that 13 weeks of holiday each year is not the only reason I wanted to be a teacher.
posted by Fluffy at 5:33 pm
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