Ten years ago this August I stood in front of a classroom as the teacher for the first time. It was an almost surreal moment for me. I had dreamed of teaching for as long as I could remember. And there I was, a teacher, with a classroom I’d set up and students who were looking to me to help them get some knowledge. Students who were looking at me like I knew what I was doing.
I’ve often said that first year felt a lot like standing in the middle of a storm that was blowing all around me. The first year of teaching is hard. The next year I had my bearings and my feet under me and it really started to get fun. My first semester standing in front of a college classroom had a very rough feeling to it as well while I figured out the new bearings and new standing I needed. But I found it, and it became fun again.
I have stood in front of a classroom as a teacher every August since. Until this August. Ten Augusts of starting a new school year as a teacher. This August, not by my choice, I’m not. It’s strange. I miss it.
Today is the first day of what will most likely be my last semester of formal degree seeking education. Because of where I am at in my current degree I’m not even going to be on campus for classes (I’ve been doing independent study type credits while I work on my papers since Spring 2010 semester).
I’m good at what I do. I love being in a classroom. It’s energizing. I love the creativity it takes to work with each new group of students. I love finding new research or projects that will make my classes even better. I hope this forced sabbatical from formal teaching is not a long one. In the mean time, I plan to make use of every opportunity I have for the informal type. School is always in session in the classroom of life.