Last night I went to my high school’s homecoming game with other Class of ’98 alumni. It was good to see familiar faces, get to know new people, and to learn what everyone is up to these days. Someone commented that so many people in our class are teachers. I found that interesting because back then, we felt compelled to become doctors, lawyers, and engineers. One alumna who teaches math at our high school joked “oh that’s an Asian F” when another mentioned that he’d somehow managed a B+ in French III even when only reading aloud once in French all year. I think that “Asian F” idea stuck with me all the way until I started my teaching career. Being a terrible first-year teacher was so humbling. Until I embraced the idea that it would take time and practice to improve as a teacher and stopped “grading” myself on real life, I didn’t fully allow myself to learn. I’m glad that so many ’98ers are teachers, and hope that some of the ’14 seniors who were cheering so loudly for their patriotic, spinning float (engineering early, kids) will open their net of job consideration to including teaching too.
