Reflections on My First 2 Years as a Teacher

One of the first things that surprised me when I began teaching was how absolutely exhausting it was. I’d never experienced such exhaustion in my life. Other teachers told me I would adapt, which I did, and to improve my diet, which I didn’t.

Then, my tiredness was replaced by difficulty sleeping due to anxiety and nightmares about my colleagues. Now I no longer worry about teaching depleting my energy since I discovered I never had any in the first place. I’m on summer vacation and I’m still tired, and believe me, I’m not doing anything. Since I have a new job coming up and I am hoping it will be much better than the last one, I should probably get myself checked for the anemia people keep telling me I must have.

My last job. Where do I begin? It was my first job and my introduction to teaching. It also destroyed my self-esteem. But I learned a lot from it.

On a positive note, I learned that teachers really love their students. I never knew I would care about my students the way that I do. I certainly never cared that much about any of my teachers when I was in school. I can’t say I’m not flooded with joy because I never have to deal with a certain difficult class of mine again, but I have a soft spot even for some of my most irritating students. I cherish memories I have with all my classes, even if I don’t want to/probably couldn’t live through them again (but that is a post for another day). Students are truly the best part of teaching. I wonder if they know how much even the smallest nice thing they say or do means to me.

The worst part of teaching—and this was a surprise to me—is other teachers. Is there something about the profession that attracts the mentally unwell? Are many teachers not actually caring adults but individuals so insecure they get satisfaction from having power over children? I’ve met many great teachers, teachers that are organized, professional, disciplined, and respected by their students, and I’m in awe of them because I am none of those things. But then there are the others. I have never met a teacher who didn’t think they were great at their job, which is odd, because I certainly didn’t have many good teachers growing up. In fact, I barely remember most of them. They can’t all be good. But they are quick to defend themselves against any criticism and even quicker to give it out. Is the subject matter we teach our students really more important than teaching them to be kind, humble, and above all, self-aware? We are supposed to be an example, but some teachers are worse bullies and gossips than most of the students. It’s very sad. I don’t think many students know just how messed up things are behind the scenes. But it shows in the end, because a school can’t really be any better than its teachers.

I guess this kind of behavior comes from insecurity, which puzzles me a bit. Where are the teachers who manifest their insecurity like I do, in a raging case of imposter syndrome and by hiding from people who scare them in empty classrooms and under desks? Maybe arrogance is a better coping mechanism for low self esteem when you have to tell teenagers what to do for a living. It’s exhausting to be unsure of yourself/convinced you don’t know what you’re doing and be hoping your students don’t notice. Especially because they do notice. However much they can seem like blockheads, they are good at reading their teachers (if not much else). This became very clear to me once when a student asked me if I was an adult. Much like wild animals, students can smell fear.

Ironically, when I was a teenager and participating in school activities like bake sales, the children thought I was a teacher and said they were scared of me. Now I actually am a teacher, and no one is scared of me.

I am proud, however, that I have gone two years without crying in class, thereby proving my brother’s predictions wrong. I have almost cried in class multiple times, and cried in front of other teachers and school administrators, but not in front of students. This is partly due to not having lost all of my pride and self-respect (yet), and partly due to not wanting them to laugh at me. But whatever, I still haven’t done it.

Part two of my reflections on my first two years of teaching will be coming soon because I still have a lot more to say about it, and writing about it is cheaper than the therapy I desperately need.