Sunday, May 04, 2014

Teacher Appreciation Week

[Blogger tells me this is my 700th blog post. Wowser. Slow progress the last few years to get there but still a place I like to call home.]

Earlier today Lesley posted a video because it's Teacher Appreciation Week. From the video I've decided that's an American thing. Singapore has Teachers' Day in September when I got the day off. Way to make us feel appreciated Singapore! Singapore also has Youth Day…when I also got the day off (see last paragraph in this post). Wikipedia says that the UK has it (October 5 teacher friends) I wouldn't hold my breath, I've yet to see any sign of it.

But watching the video was nice because on Friday I had a lovely day. I had my final class with my senior class. I just taught them this year but regard them as my 'all stars' because they were so great. They made me a present which was worth way more than anything they could have bought me: a book full of photos and memories from teaching them.

It was actually really similar to the book my favourite class in Singapore made for me too and even though it's seven years ago in an entirely different type of school in a different country, there are signs of me being exactly the same sort of teacher…if their letters and comments are to be believed anyway.

One of the things I did with both classes (and schools) is a quote wall. Here are two of my favourite quotes with them. Both made it into their respective books.

Miss B.: (writing on the board, stops mid-sentence and turns to the class) How do you spell 'disastrous'? I think I spelt it wrong. 
C: I think you spelt 'illiterate' wrong as well.

That one made it to this blog post if you're interested. Probably not, I just like to back reference. And then this one from this year.

F: Aww Miss, is that a mince pie?
Miss B: Yeah!
F: Aww I love them!
A: Another reason to be vegetarian…
F: It's not real mince!
A: Stop! I've never eaten them because of that!
J: Can we get back to the exam please?

But the video got me thinking, what would I write to myself on my first say of being a teacher. (Actually, my very first day of being a teacher was in 2005 in the school I work in now. 'Now' makes it sound like I plan on leaving - I don't. Ever.)

Anyway, this is what I have. Not profound, but helpful all the same I think.

Dear Teacher Tina,
I know, you're actually a teacher! You did it. Don't worry, even nine years later you won't feel like you've got this game together yet. But here's the weird thing, you manage to pull it together. I know, sometimes it's like you know what you are doing.

In a few years' time you'll have to write your educational philosophy for a job application (I'll save you the worry: you don't get the job). But I'll boil our philosophy right down for you: I'm on your team; be on my team. You will teach the class as an entire entity, a unit. You won't allow for inside jokes but you will definitely laugh with your classes. A lot. Sometimes at the expense of work. You should probably try not to do that so much. There's a unofficial rule in teaching not to be sarcastic with students. Ignore that. Third years love it.

You'll like (almost) every single student you teach, even if they don't like History or Politics (or you!) and you'll work with some brilliant teachers. You'll be rubbish at marking. In fact, even as I write this letter to you now, I have a pile of essays waiting to be marked plus a whole lot of other planning to do for Tuesday. But you'll be able to start a lesson explaining something you only have the vaguest notion of when you began talking (you might want to start reading up on the English Civil War now, you know, get a head start).  

Keep going through the roughest days of teaching, because every now and then, the best days come along. And when they do, there's not a job in the world that can touch teaching.

God speed Miss B.
Love and best wishes, 
Miss B.

PS One more thing to save yourself considerable embarrassment, when you're teaching the Third Home Rule Bill c.2008 call him Andrew Bon-ner Law, not how it looks you might say it. You're welcome.

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