I can’t help but yawn. The rain makes the classroom dark, especially in this tech happy world when lights are off more often than on. The cold temperature, upper thirties at best, makes the day a little more dreary. The lecture tips the balance, creating soul-deep yawns the students see behind my feeble attempt to block with a closed fist.
If I’m bored, what hope is there for the students? I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life looking at a clock on the wall, waiting for the final bell to ring, all while my brain operates at the level of a juiced up turnip. I have a countdown of days left for my student teaching obligation. Each day I cross off is one more victory, one more weight lifted.
But then, what happens when I’m a teacher, the chief architect of future young minds, the dispenser of knowledge, the wizbang in charge of the whole shebang?
I want to engage students. The question is simple; do I have the ability, the training, the creativity, to actually reach students, to turn boredom into active engagement? I mean, I hope I do, but really, until I get a classroom of my own, how will I really know? How will I know if spending a year trying to earn the right to teach will be a year which turns me into an individual who can teach? Will I even want to teach when the time comes when I am given a job to do so?
One question I have the answer for is the kind of teacher I want to be if given the chance. I want to be the teacher who excites students by being legitamitely excited about teaching. It is that pesky second question, the question of capability, that keeps my ops pressure up, my nights long with obsessive doubt.
Am I a teacher? Or am I a pretender, a potential black hole of boredom, sucking all joy from the lives of future students?
The day I find out gets closer and all I'm left with is, "who knows".