We pass on what we know,you know,those years,those times when you could have been just doing nothing,
You willingly accept that teaching is a vocation,that it’s about giving and sacrifice.
As the years roll on,you reflect:”What more could I have done for him or her”,
Maybe,your teachers said the same thing,you know,that inward conversation ,”Did I really explain it well”?
So,you busy yourself with your mental gymnastics,and you try to enfuse,but not confuse,
When you think about them,they are work in progress,not the finished article.
They are sometimes shy,introverted,but always,they observe,they test you out:”Are you genuine,or just in it for the pension?”
Or ,they might be in your face ,appearing to be oh so confident,but ,underneath,they are really not that,
You try to remember your teenage years:Then you realised that life was oh so different in 1975.
In 1975,you could mess up ,do something really crass,but hardly anyone knew,
Now,you make one tiny slip,and the world potentially knows through their phone,their snapchat,their instagram.
So,all that,that “must be connected,must have an online presence”,I reckon that is truly a tough gig for many teenagers,
It’s that ,you know,the stuff of 2016,it’s not easy to be young.
Well,what’s to do,give up on them,say it’s not my problem,well,if you teach,you are at the coal face of their daily lives,
If you can’t see it,then you can’t teach them anything.
Have all the theories in the world,but if you can’t at least try to feel some of their anxieties,then go work in a bank,just go do something else.
For me,I’m not a quitter,non of my teachers gave up on me,and I was a right pain,trust me,I was,
So,keep going,do your best,teach,listen,and feel something .