You can settle for less in ordinary life...

This week started with a shazam of sorts.

Monday morning, I had my first "observation" for my education class.  I need 15 hours of this observation for the semester, where I go to a local high school, sit in on my assigned class, and apply the theory I've learned thus far to the students and teachers I see in this setting.

This observation was scheduled for 7:50 to 10:00.  AM.  Yes.  It was ugly and disgusting, and I was dreading it.  Sure, I looked forward to the experience, the opportunity to finally get into a classroom, but waking up that early?  Yeah, no good.

The service-learning department set us up with willing local teachers based mostly on our schedules, though some consideration was taken for grade and subject preferences.  I asked for junior high, because I've been considering that as an option, so I'd like to get some experience with it.  That didn't work out, though, so I was placed in an AP English class at a public high school downtown.

I observed two classes because the girl who carpooled with me was going to observe the second class, so I just stuck around and added to my notes.  I can't describe how...useless I felt.  Not just because, for the first time in my life, I was in a classroom where I had no specific role in what was going on, but because those classes were completely beyond my realm of understanding.

It made me realize, I think for the first time, the breadth of what I'm trying to accomplish by becoming a teacher.  I'm going to be taking children I do not know and possibly will never understand or be able to relate to, and trying to teach them things that may or may not mean anything to them, and I'll have to work around and through all the darknesses in my own soul, as well as theirs, and everyone in my classroom is going to be vulnerable, whether they know it or not.

This all felt a lot more radical and shattering on Monday.  That that day was nearly 22 hours long didn't help my mental state by the end of it all.

I've always known I've been pretty sheltered all my life, either by my own volition, or through the insulation of my high school, my circle of friends, my hometown, etc.  But it hasn't before occurred to me on such a frightening scale that that shelter is going to severely hinder my ability to be more than just an instructor to the students I teach.

...

I still have three years to work through all this, though, so I'm not going to give up hope entirely.  But suddenly, teaching seems more like a challenge than a calling.

I had more to say, but I've spent too much time updating this thing.  I have homework to do and a nap to take.

<3 spadeALLcross