I like little kids, I like the idea of affecting them, of starting out their education right. To teach them to think, to create, to be the best little people they can be. My childhood self wanted to be a teacher (and a nurse, and a mommy, and a princess). Well, I’ll never be a nurse or a princess, and maybe not even a mommy, but I can become a teacher. Ultimately I’d like to teach on the college level at Liberty University Online, where I currently attend classes, but in the meantime, I’d like to teach little ones. Not pre-school, because, as my cousin so aptly told me, that’s just glorified babysitting, but kindergarten.
It’s what my gut says, though my gut has been wrong before. I know it’s a challenge, I know kids are a challenge, I know there will be tears and homesickness and tummy aches and confusion, and of course the kids themselves. However, I think it’s the grade I’m most suited to. The grade that allows for the most creativity, the most art, the most basic skills. It’s teaching the foundation of education. Letters and numbers and early reading and phonics, and simple fractions and basic math, and hygiene and classroom manners and art. It’s the basis for everything else they’ll learn. A good kindergarten teacher could potentially identify gifted children, children with learning disabilities, and keep mommy and daddy informed about their kid.
Why do people feel the need to discourage me from this? Are they right? Am I being stupid? Am I over-glorifying it? Is it because I’m already 32 and something of an introvert? I know it’s taken a long time to find my calling, and that this may not be it. I’ve spent so long, though, catering to people’s beliefs that I needed to work with computers. “You’re so smart,” they said, “you need to work with computers. You need to go into this, you need to go into that.” I thought for a long time that business was for me. I considered being a paralegal. I considered applied web technology, whatever the heck that is. Then… then my heart led me to history, and I realized that teaching was something I’d like to do. My childhood self certainly played teacher enough, teaching my stuffies and dolls their numbers and ABC’s.
This is the first time that the thought of something has triggered such an emotional response. I’m excited, I’m terrified, I’m nervous, I’m planning. I’m on Pinterest during all hours of the night looking at DIY teaching aids and classroom supplies. I’m researching into how to spot a child with learning difficulties and different ways of teaching to kids who think in different ways. Is it a sign?
I wish I had the answers for myself. I wish I had more self-confidence. I wish I just knew.