"I did it for the money"...

...Said no teacher ever.

When most people think of teaching, they picture out-by-3:30 workdays, never-ending holidays, snow days, coloring, counting, playing all day long, and the oh-so-divine summer break. However, when a teacher thinks of the profession, and I'm talking a real teacher- not the rubber-room, authoritarian, my-way-or-the-highway, paycheck collector- this teacher thinks of the profession in a completely different light. This teacher thinks of the endless TO DO list that never seems to decrease, the constant need to improve, what worked well but more often what could have been better. This teacher thinks of the mountainous stack of grading that continues to grow, the charts and bulletin boards yet to be created, the activities that were once dreamed of that require more time to prepare than available, overly-priced supplies purchased out of a petite pocket. This teacher thinks of late nights gathering ideas on Pinterest, cramming in curriculum, Sunday planning... and EVERY other day planning. And once in a while, this teacher thinks of having some semblance of a social life. 

After a whirlwind of moving to a strange new country on my own, walking into a classroom midyear, diving in head first, making it through to our last day of school, and finding revival and rejuvenation in summer holiday at home, I find myself embarking on my first FULL school year as a teacher. I remember my friend and colleague telling me that if I can make it here, I'll make it anywhere. That comment has resonated with me and continues to do so. In a multi-grade level classroom that went from 12 to 20 students of varying levels and abilities, I've got my challenges cut out.


Some days I wake up, still exhausted after going to bed at 10:00 pm, and wonder why in the world I decided to become a teacher. And then I spend a day with these strange, rambunctious little humans who drain every ounce of my energy, test me and push me beyond limits leaving me with migraines and heavy eyelids. And after all the times I tell them to go away, sit down, be quiet... All the times I question where they left their brains and why they must act like little flies in my ear that I want to squash, they still insist on fighting over who can fill my water bottle; they still count and report the amount of hugs they have or have not received; they still come to talk my ear off at any opportune (or anything-but-opportune) moment; they still push their way to pet my hair and tell me how pretty I am; they still recount every detail of my life they've learned or discovered despite forgetting what we learned in science the day before. They continue to draw roses and rainbows with misspelled versions of best teacher ever strewn across and they jump at the chance to see me outside of school, trying to track down my address and weekend excursions. They still adore me despite my bursts of anger and proclamations that I love you guys, but I don't necessarily like you right now. They STILL love me unconditionally. 

"What would I do without you guys?" 

..."Nothing."
..."Probably call the ambulance."
..."Roll around in the mud."

And then I remember... THIS is why I decided to become a teacher.