All You Need Is Love

I had a conversation last night with a fellow artist about what inspires me. My gut instinct was to say love. It's true, I do what I do because of love. I could not be a teacher without love.

I then got to thinking about Shakespeare. I am attempting to teach Julius Caesar to my 9th graders. The play talks a great deal about love even though it is a tragedy. Brutus loves Caesar, but he loves his country more. Cassius loves Brutus and is hurt when Brutus represses his love for his friend. Mark Antony loves Caesar and is deeply hurt when he is killed. Though it is a tragedy and everyone dies, the play is as much about love as it is about death.

I am fascinated by the multifaceted definitions and implications of the word 'love'. The Oxford English dictionary has nine different uses for the word. The fourth one is the one I will use here. It reads:

"A feeling or disposition of deep affection or fondness for someone, typically arising from a recognition of attractive qualities, from natural affinity, or from sympathy and manifesting itself in concern for the oth 'love'er's welfare and pleasure in his or her presence (distinguished from sexual love at sense 4a); great liking, strong emotional attachment; (similarly) a feeling or disposition of benevolent attachment experienced towards a group or category of people, and (by extension) towards one's country or another impersonal object of affection."

You can love a tree or you can love another person. There is the love a mother has for a child and the love a person has for their partner. There is the love one has for their pet and the love one has for their favorite dessert. Add to that list a teacher who loves her students.

I love being a teacher because it gives me the ability to foster intellectual and personal growth in my students. I love English literature because of the way it captures human emotion for people who find self expression to be a difficult task.

Most of all, I move my students. I love them because they want to learn, but they don't know it yet. I love them for their light bulb moment when they figure something out. I love them for having the ability to make me feel like I am a teacher. You know, like when one of your most challenging students tells you the activity you gave him, "made him think." I love them for who they are despite the fact that they can be a tiny bit lazy.

I have a natural affinity, a strong emotional connection to my students and to what I do. I am passionate about my line of work.

I am fiercely overprotective of my students. I protect them from each other and from themselves. I chide self-depreciation and encourage self-actualization.

I could not do this job if I did not love it. I don't understand how anyone teaches when they don't love what they do.

Taylor Mali loves being a teacher. Here is his piece, "What Teachers Make"





Oxford English Dictionary - Love (Restricted Database)

Where do I begin?

I am beginning this blog from the suggestion of several people. My grandmother wanted me to write down my experiences, @openlyfeminist wanted to know what I did in my classes and quite frankly, I'd like to track my own progression in teaching. My biggest challenge is going to be making a commitment and sticking to it. Since I am not committed to anything at this point in my life besides my car payment and student loans, I have vowed to make this blog my proverbial significant other. So here goes nothing.

I am high school English teacher. Whereas my current position was a bit of an accident, my journey toward teaching was not. I decided I wanted to be a teacher about a year ago. To scrape by in Grad school, I sold all my worldly possessions. When I ran out of stuff, I got myself certificate to substitute teach. I did so at my Alma Mater because it was my comfort zone and I wanted to experience being "on the other side of the desk."

The pay was decent. ($88/day is better than the $0/day I was making at home). What kept me going back was the students. Sure, most of them forgot themselves when they saw I was a sub, but I forgive them. But, the stories I could tell you about them. My Alma Mater is a vocational school and I never understood what that truly meant until I became a substitute teacher.

I was subbing in an English class and Joseph was telling me how much he hated it. He hated it because his teacher thought he was stupid. So, I asked him what he liked. He continued to tell me how his teacher treated him. I stopped him and again asked him what he liked. His entire disposition changed. His face lit up. Turns out Joseph is in a band and he writes his own music and songs. He was in HVAC and when he graduates he has a guaranteed job and a spot in a Union just like his father and grandfather.

Joseph will never love Shakespeare as much as I do, but you bet he'd be the FIRST person I called if my heating/ventilation/air conditioning unit broke. Why? Because Joseph has the talent and the drive he needs to be the best at what he does.

I went home that day and researched. Turns out as an English MA candidate I could teach as long as I passed the PRAXIS II.

So, I paid the $130 and took the test. Then, My grandmother paid the $130 so I could take it again. (My meager budget did not factor in not passing the test the first time. I failed by 9 points.)

October 16, 2008 I got my PRAXIS scores in the mail. 175/200.
October 29, 2008 My NJ Certificate of Eligibitity arrived in the mail.
November 9, 2008 I got a phone call from the headmaster of my school. He is in desperate need of an English teacher.
November 10, 2008 I meet with said Headmaster & Assistant Headmaster. I am given my books and told to go home and plan.
November 12, 2008 I begin teaching English.

The rest will be chronicled here. Making the strides to be able to teach English has been the best decision I have ever made. I am grateful for literature, youth and teaching more and more everyday.