The "Teach" Sense — i.e. my intro

 

I saw this image somewhere and it struck a chord. It was powerful, hopeful, and — most importantly — it vindicated the profession I had chosen when I realised that I was one of the ones who "couldn't do." Just kidding. I think that I loved the colours most of all (I'm all about the colours) and how it had a ring to it — even if I didn't actually agree.

Teaching is not superpower, people. We don't wear glasses to hide our true identity, we do it because we've lost our sight from so much marking. We don't come from a strange planet, even if we sometimes act like we do. And we do not save the world on our breaks from being effortlessly handsome but instead of. Most important of all, I take issue with the fact that anyone should think teaching comes naturally to me, or to any actually good teacher. 

I struggle, I lose sleep, and I am often daunted in my attempt to teach. And even if seeing the spark in a student's eyes makes me feel like I was touched by magic for a second, or if I feel like tearing up when they speak confidently in Spanish to a stranger because of my so-called superpower, I still do not feel like the miracle worker, or the saviour, or feel tempted to send my butler for a cape and tights. I'm too poor for a butler and have far too good a taste for a cape and tights — and for assuming that I did the learning for my students. 

I teach not because I couldn't do but because I was called to do it and no one else was there to pick up the phone. It is at time a curse and makes me want to hide under the blankets like the kid in the movie The Teach Sense. 

 ("I see dead people!" They are staring at me despite my very clear explanation of the Subjunctive conjugation, what the f...).

To summarise: I am no superhero. I am a servant and an artist — sometimes a tortured servant or a very tortured artist. Most of the time, though, I am one of the luckiest people alive. And in this blog I intend to explore how the magic comes to be when it actually happens. 

And yes, I promise to stop mixing up metaphors.