I remember back in primary 4, the teacher posed the big, heavy question ‘What do you want to be in the future?’ Back then a teacher did not even cross my mind. I remember pondering the question for hours, thinking of more appropriate ideas for my little, nine year old brain- like a fashion designer or a singer. It wasn’t until I got home that evening that I asked my mum what she thought; without hesitation she said I should be a teacher.
The next day at school I watched the teacher very carefully, envisioning myself in her shoes. I already loved school but seeing my teacher mark the kid’s work with little ticks and using multi-coloured chalk on the blackboard, I decided I needed to do that as a career. Now, I laugh at how naive and oblivious I was but a job was something so far in the future, I used to sometimes believe it would never actually come. However silly, that is where the dream began. I was off! Red marker pen at the ready!
I continued to say I wanted to be a teacher throughout my first few years at secondary school, however, it wasn’t until the good old anxiety started to take hold of the reins and my dream of teaching took a seat on the back burner. I used to curse myself for not pushing myself forward for the dream earlier, instead of shying away from the prospect of rejection and my time after high school took a total different direction than expected. I had a lot of growing to be done first and during those next few years on working entirely on what makes me- me, it is what got me here, writing this post today, away to start my degree at exactly the right time.
It’s a learning curve, folks.