Since I started high school, I had a feeling that I wanted to teach. For many years, I wanted to do Music Education and teach band. However, my parents convinced me to change my major to something that would "make more money and have more jobs." So naturally, I chose something entirely against that suggestion, Adolescent-Young Adult Education: Integrated Social Studies. For those of you not in the education world, this is a fancy word for a high school social studies teacher. I chose a relatively close university with an amazing education department to help me be able to inspire the minds of my future students in the best way possible. If you look at my Pinterest account, you will find dozens of organization tips, future lesson plans and of course, these beauties:
Beginning school last fall was a whirl of new experiences. Within a month, I was observing teachers in the classroom and tutoring at an after-school program, a place where I still volunteer now that the class is over.
Teaching is no easy job. "Educator" is one of the many hats I am learning to wear. The first time I was in an elementary school to observe, I stayed with the kids in the art classroom (which had a substitute teacher). No more than five minutes into class, I hear an announcement for a lock-down of the building. The lights went off, and the students hid in their spots. The teacher, however, did not have a key to lock the doors, and she had to run across the hall to grab keys. The students would not listen to her when she said to be quiet. After the teacher pleading with the students, something came over me. Something that one of the students would know as the "mean Mr. Devoll." I very sternly told the students that they will be silent. There was no option. All was well after that.
People often question me as to why I would spend years of education only to stay in a classroom and "babysit."
I can assure you that babysitting is the farthest thing from what I do.
Most teachers have to take a class that deals with diversity in the classroom. This essential class was one of my most interesting experiences. We had to tutor inner-city students. I wound up with a co-teacher I had never met before. We were expected to help the students with their homework and stand around and be pelted by dodgeballs. I heard a voice in my head telling me that I was not the babysitter. I am a teacher. My co-teacher, Mary, and I used what little educator skills we possessed and made a new lesson plan each week. We had to fund ourselves or make adjustments to our lessons as price factors and material availability arose. I learned about the personal lives of my students. One has only one living parent, several live on the "other side of town," some have a learning disability. Regardless of the situation, I made sure they learned something every time. Mary and I taught them history through popular dance moves, we built our own volcano, celebrated holidays around the world and wrote letters to drunk drivers from the perspective of a victim.
This was no walk in the park. I have had students yell at me, kick me, threaten me with scissors and tell me they love me. I have to constantly remind students what is appropriate classroom conversation and behavior. One of my best lesson plans, an adventure of a fish in polluted water, ended with a girl screaming for the fish to live and proceeded to give a sponge fish covered in maple syrup mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I had a parent watching me, she did nothing to help. Then again, it is my job to maintain control.
While my students may cause my hair to gray prematurely, I love all of them. They may not keep me young, but they keep me on my feet. I would never want another profession because it is my duty to inspire the minds of others.
