Sometimes I can’t believe I’m a teacher. I was not a little girl who dreamed of being an educator, who played classroom, who thought about leading a class of students. I was not even an education major in college! But I love my job, and I love what I do.
One of my favorite moments of every day is walking down the hall during my prep. I’m always on my way to gab with this one or gossip with that one, copy this or file that. And I walk past rows of open doors. Although it’s not by design, the hallways around my classroom are all filled with other English teachers or Social Studies teachers. I love walking down the hall and watching my colleagues engaged in meaningful work with students. I love seeing conferences or students reading or discussions. I love seeing students I have in my class in other classrooms: how they sit the same way, how they react to questions differently, how they talk to new friends. I love the snippets I overhear.
“No, I don’t know if Atticus would think that . . . ”
“I found some evidence, it’s on page 45 . . . ”
“But how does the yuan stand up to the Euro?”
These moments, when I walk past open doors and hear my students learning, see them engaged, I am most glad of my job. And on this, the day before Spring Break, when I am burned out and cranky and have a headache and am ready for that vacation to begin, that’s a nice reminder to have.