I used to have the same confused question racing in loops around my little head as mum was at her wit’s end running about packing schoolbags, making up an A-class packed lunch fit for 3 as quickly as I could count to 20 (which, by the way, was an impressive time for a 6 year old) and then heading into school where she would begin breakfast club quickly followed up by her main role of educating those needing special assistance in the classroom, also known as learning support unit 1…
How? How did she have the energy and the motivation to execute all of these tasks with an ever-present smile? Not only how she does it but why? Was the stress of 3 children all within a 3 year age-bracket in the morning not challenging enough? Surely she doesn’t actually do this 5 days a week because she actually enjoys it.
It wasn’t until later in life that I would come to the understanding that the woman I call mum, actually loved transforming the life of every pupil she came in contact with. I watch even now as she treats every child as an individual, as though it’s just the two of them in the room together. She encapsulates their attention with a snap of her fingers and makes good use of it as she brightens up their day one sticker at a time.
I can detect the sense of satisfaction when a child finally spells that word right all by themselves after practicing all week, thinking about how I have the capability to be one of the stepping stones that got them there. The sense of achievement… just knowing I could be a part of that spurs me on to the belief that teaching is for me. Amongst the stray Lego bricks and the spilt paint there are children waiting to find themselves, seeking out their potential without knowing it. It is my firm belief that as a teacher it is compulsory that I don’t just teach but know my children and that I walk with them as a crutch until they stumble upon what it is they are here to do.