Quiet holiday season, quiet twinkly lights.
As much as I enjoy teaching, I don’t think I could do it for the rest of my life, or as a long-term career. Teachers are notoriously underpaid and undervalued–in society, and by students.
I didn’t appreciate teachers for a long time. You know, when you’re young, they’re just there, like child caretakers who vary in leniency. Some are strict. Others are not. Some are terrifying. Others are not. Some will yell at you for sneaking spicy chips in class. Others will not.
Also, viruses spread like wildfire among kids. I love taking care of them, but one uncovered cough and the whole class is down. As a germaphobe, I’d just rather not.
But in the meantime, I’m happy to be doing what I am. Math still gives me a minor headache, but I enjoy it a lot more than I used to. I can tell when a student doesn’t understand by the way they blush or their eyes fog over. I backpedal in concepts until it’s easily understandable. I sometimes wonder about the school system and how knowledge is just…left behind.
I’d rather teach a student Math than English, despite my preference for the latter. It’s hard to communicate an intuitive grasp of English, of where commas can and can’t go, of apt vocabulary. Math, on the other hand, is just a house filled with nooks and crannies and foundational rules.
Anyhow, I appreciate teachers much more now (and professors, in particular) for all they do. They really deserve more recognition–and raises, for that matter.