Only a week to go before my number's up and already I feel my insides begin to twist. The great, scary thing about teaching is that every year you start fresh. I'll have a fresh crop of kids of course, and while they're putting the finishing touches to their summer tans, I'm already beginning to wonder, as I did last year, what in the world will I do with them?
Teach them, of course. Just like I tried to do last year, when I felt as if the very question of what I should be doing with all 130 or so students was chasing me to the end of May. I guess that's irrational, but in the first year of one's teaching career, I think a certain amount of irrationality may be forgiven. Perhaps all of us teacher-types "know" what to do, but the full answer to the question is a little overwhelming. Sure, I teach English to young teenagers, but I also try to see the good in each one of them, and help them to see it in themselves. I try to show them I care about them while getting them to care about my subject. I tutor kids who have convinced themselves and everyone that they "hate reading." I sponsor book clubs that give bookish youngsters (such as myself not so long ago) a place for passionate debate over the relative merits of Tolkien and Rowling as fantasy authors.
Oh, and let's not forget about end-of-course testing, and how my job sort of seems to depend on it. For now, that's okay. I'd rather ponder the many answers to "What in the world will I teach these kids?" that this year will bring. If that proves old hat, I'll move on to what they may teach me.
