A Typical Day as a Teacher

Three years ago, when I envisioned myself as an educator to our youth, all I thought about was how fun it would be to work with kids, getting off of work at 2:30, all holidays off, and best of all- summers off! How could anyone not love a job like that? Fast forward to today, and I'm an exhausted 24-year-old teacher (prime of my life, right?) who is either fast asleep as soon as she gets home, or am busy grading papers or planning lessons way into the night.

So how does the rest of my day look like? Let's see... Luckily, I have a short commute to work compared to most people of the western hemisphere. I wake up at around 6:30am, and slowly drag myself to the bathroom- mostly because I'm not a morning person. Depending on the day, I could be totally eager to go to work (Yes! It's the last day of school!), extremely lethargic (Oh goodness, I have to administer five tests to five periods today....*snore*), or outright scared (So let's hope the kids don't burn down my room with this lesson!). At least I can say that I start off every morning with an adventure already.

When I get to work, usually 30 minutes early, I am already bombarded with things I need to take care of. A kid is waiting at the front of my classroom door, without an appointment, asking for tutoring help. The office manager asks why I didn't turn in XYZ paperwork (when I did!), and the five minute re-cap on what happened before, with her replying, "Ohhhh..." at the end. The principal calls me up and asks me why I'm late to my yard duty post (because it's not my turn this week!). And let's not forget the one person who everyone has at their workplace- the one person who JUST WON'T SHUT UP if you run into him/her. Luckily I'm young and have developed excellent dodging skills since acquiring this job.

When the bell rings, the kids file in. Once the students are seated, the tedious attendance is taken and the roster sent up to the office. Then the phone call of "Where is your attendance?! You're late! Oh wait...here it is..." comes. Then, an unprepared teacher barges in, looking for supplies at the last minute. Then school announcements blare over the static-ridden PA system. Then the school counselor comes in to pull out some students. Then, student ABC realizes he left his sweater outside on the basketball courts. Student JKL needs to use the restroom. Student RST left his school supplies at home. Student EFG accidentally stabbed himself with pencil after student TUV shot him with a rubber band. And after everything is finally situated, you mean I can finally start my lesson?

And then the bell rings, the kids leave the class, and a new set of angels come in to start the second period off. And thus, the cycle begins. At 2:30, the bell rings, and the kids rush out of the classroom to hang out with their friends. Our school's policy is to get the kids off campus, as we don't want to be responsible for them when they get into fights, start making-out under the bleachers, etc. And the kids, after acting like the DON'T want to be in school all day, will finally not go home once school is over. Sometimes I feel like I need a broomstick to sweep the kids away from the school for the day.

Then, my day is done, correct? Oh wait, I can't forget that staff meeting I need to attend. Oh, and that kid I said I was keeping in for detention. And don't forget that some kids need to meet up to practice for the upcoming competition. And the kids that need to stay after to work on their projects, because they don't have any computers at home. And the department head wants to meet to discuss the curriculum for the upcoming school year?

 But wait, after all of that madness, I have rush out of here as soon as possible because I need to go to class tonight! You know, those classes I need to take so I can simply KEEP MY JOB? It's no wonder that when I get home, I'm exhausted. I grade and work on everything I need to have completed for the following day, and leave everything else for the weekend. Fun, weekends? Yeah, right. More like, weekends: a time for me to catch a couple more Zzz, and then "power-grade" everything so that it will be ready for the kids on Monday morning. But through all 179 days of madness, on the 180th day of school, the angels make it worth it. The hugs and praises they give me make me tear up just a bit. Then the kids quickly run off towards the horizon, I mean McDonald's, and welcome their summer. Would I give up this low-paying, stressful job for a high-paying, easy job? Who knows? It's difficult for me to think of another career as satisfying.