The question comes up at least once a year with every new batch of students. “Why are you a teacher?” The first time I heard it, I was slightly confused why they were asking. Then they started getting a bit more specific (as I learned that I could ask them questions too).
“Why do you teach HERE? How come you’re not teaching magnet?”
“How come you’re not at a white school?”
“How come you’re not a doctor or a professor or something?”
I get a mixture of emotions when I hear these. Of course, I feel flattered because I understand these are high compliments from kids who don’t hash out many compliments a day. Most of the time, I get really sad. Especially with questions along the lines of the second one. Need I say more on that? Sometimes, I even get angry at how so many people think teaching is a sell-out job. I know my mom still thinks I should become a doctor.
My response had always been something along the lines of “because I love teaching!” “teaching was my first choice job”, or “why? do you think white people are better than you?” (unless, of course, they they werent and wanted to be rid of me to a predominantly white school… =P)
This time, however, I really did start to wonder. And I hate that. I’m not questioning whether I should go to a white school or magnet or become a doctor. Teach college?, maybe.
I think I have a severe case of the “Mr. Feeney Syndrome.” If you don’t know who that is, that was this teacher on Boy Meets World, who taught that curly haired kid for what must’ve been middle school, high school, and then followed him into college… AND he was the boy’s neighbor.
Ok, so maybe my case isn’t as severe or as freakish as his, but still kinda freakish relative to the real world. I didn’t stalk one kid, but a class of kids, for their 4 years of high school. And now they’ve gone and graduated, leaving me feeling like… I’m still here? Even if it’s not moving on to teach college for these specific set of kids, I still feel like I want to move on with them. I understand the crazy Mr. Feeney.
If I keep teaching, my whole life will consist of watching these kids move up and out while I’m still here. Is this MY grown-up end where I have to be ok w/ that? I guess I’m kind of not right now. I suddenly find myself still asking, what will I be when I grow up? =P
(Mommy, get these guys to be my coworkers and maybe I’ll still be that doctor yet.)
