Why am I a teacher?

Daniel in the Lion's Den or a Teacher with a class of 13 year olds?

'So why am I a teacher?' This question is asked so many times. The usual response when I tell someone, is amazement: "How could you possibly do a job like that?" or "I could never be a teacher." After a while you do begin to wonder why yourself.

So why am I a teacher? Well if I ask my mother she says I was always a teacher. As a young child I loved to play school in the playhouse that my father created for me in the garden. My friends would come round - they always came to my house because mum is a softie even now and spoils everyone with drinks and snacks, and you know how mercenary children are! We would get into the playhouse and set up school and I was always the teacher. I suppose that this does have something to do with it. The idea of becoming a teacher was not alien to me - it was a natural thought.

I didn't always plan to be a teacher. At 17 I wanted nothing more than to be a research scientist. I had even had a job offer with sponsorship through university. I was about to sign the contracts when the topic of colour-blindness came up. I am colour-blind, so end of contract. Looking back I am not really that disappointed as I realise now that I would probably have found the work repetitive and dull.

So, at 18 I left school with the offer of a place at St. Peter's College in Birmingham, a training college with a long history and a good reputation, but unfortunately it fell victim to the late 1970s need for, as the Americans say, down-sizing. The Church of England decided it could no longer support the college and so it closed, much mourned by the 'Old Salts' as we are known.

I entered college as a trainee for Middle School, but as Birmingham didn't have any, I went for my first teaching practice to a Primary School. I hated it - the children were too young. I knew then that I would never be a Primary School teacher.

Well, I haven't really answered the question yet - why am I a teacher? Well young people are not the pleasantest of people when en masse, but for some reason I love being around them. There are difficult classes, sometimes I want to walk out and scream, but then something happens that makes me forget the bad and realise why I am there. I love to teach because I love teaching. I love to show new possibilities, to hopefully open up new worlds, to maybe give a young person a life long love of learning,

I love my main subject, History, and adore telling stories from the past. People seem to remember my stories - maybe I'm good at telling them or maybe I'm just good at choosing the right stories. I am possibly an actor at heart, but I have no fear standing at the front of a class and acting out a story. I also love computers and enjoy showing young people the possibilities that the computer can open up to them. I use computers in my History lessons, but more importantly I teach ICT (Information Communication Technology).

Finally, I just cannot imagine doing anything else. Some years ago I had to spend a week in a local newspaper news room. It was the most boring week of my life and at first I could not understand why. Then I realised - I was missing the students. I missed their liveliness, I missed their humour, I missed the fact that I never knew what was going to happen next. I discovered that in fact I hate routine. Now considering that my life is dominated by the school bell and that I know where I will be and who I will be with from September to July, that sounds odd, but with young people, you can never predict what will happen from one minute to the next.

Recently, I had a very bad year with one age group - three classes drove me nearly out of my mind. Despite the other seven classes that I had I focussed more and more upon the one's driving me mad. In June one of my older students was leaving - I really enjoyed my lessons with this class. She left me a card and a gift. A fridge magnet. The words on the magnet made me forgive the other's everything. It said:

Everyone should have a teacher like you, but so far it looks like you're one of a kind.

It is the little things like that which make me want this job - one simple act and you forget weeks of misery.

So, for all of the problems associated with the job, I cannot imagine ever doing anything as worthwhile, as fulfilling or as interesting - and next time I am moaning, I shall have to log on and read this page to remind myself why I am there - or run home and check the fridge door!