Why
I am a Teacher
“It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it
is the journey that matters, in the end.” -- Ursula LeGuin, The Left
Hand of Darkness
My dreams determine my goals; my goals direct my choices. My choices lead to the experiences that give my life meaning and growth. As I grow older, it is this sense of progressing forward, of discovering and rediscovering, which becomes the goal, becomes what matters. Buoyed by the comfort and insight provided by authors such as Ursula LeGuin, I embark on my current, and most challenging, journey: teaching literature. However, it is not my arrival at this destination that defines me, but how I got here and what I do now.
As an adolescent I achieved success against the odds. Having lost my father at the age of ten and watched my mother struggle to raise my sister and me alone, the need to be self-sufficient and independent developed with an urgency unusual for a girl my age. Dedicating myself to my school work, I won the Pride Writing contest for my school district, graduated from high school fifth in my class, maintained a 4.0 in college, and completed a senior thesis entitled, “Adolescence in the American Novel.” The expectations for my future were high. New College graduates went on to get doctorates, not to become high school teachers. Yet, as a daughter of lower-middle class immigrant parents, I struggled to find my voice and my purpose. Graduate school intimidated me. Not knowing what do with a literature degree, I considered teaching. Then, I remembered the adage, “those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” I wanted to be a doer. I discarded the option of teaching as a career.
My goal became to find a career that mattered. As a temporary escape from my dilemma and as a chance to learn about my heritage, I taught English in Hungary for a year. Since it was overseas and only a year, I did not really consider this a teaching job. Upon returning to Florida, I explored my interest in social activism through a successful career in administering welfare. After two years, disheartened by a feeling of inertia and impotence, I wanted to do more.
Then I found it, my niche: video editing. As a volunteer producer and editor on a community access TV show, “Her Story,” the power our shows had on raising awareness about women’s struggles in our community thrilled and excited me. I left my job with the State of Florida to put myself through school for a second time. I quickly worked my way up the ladder of video editing in New York City and Los Angeles, landing a position on the most successful reality television show, “Joe Millionaire.” While everyone marveled at my success in reaching my goal of being a professional video editor, I was miserable. Somewhere along the way, my journey became meaningless. I moved from creating independent videos that promote positive cultural change to working in an industry that devalued creativity and critical thinking.
In evaluating my talents, my priorities, what I could do, and what I want to do, I reviewed my successes and the mentors who helped me achieve them. I remembered my teachers. Ten years later, after working with the ‘doers’ of the world, I saw the fallacy of the old adage. In fact, my own teachers are the source of my ability to keep recreating my goals and to keep starting new adventures. My education gives me the ability to lead and to organize, the ability to simultaneously work within a large bureaucracy and exhibit compassion, the ability to work with a variety of people, and the ability to nurture my creativity and my confidence.
My new goal -- to find a job that challenges me to shape a world that values creativity and diversity – has been attained as a teacher. What matters, in the end, is the journey I will share with my students. Everyday, I strive to arm my students with the knowledge, the skills, and the zest for discovery that only a passionate and well-trained teacher may impart.