Accidental Ambivalence

Let Them Be Choos

My junior year of high school, I had an amazing English teacher, Mrs. W. Her class was specifically designed for college-bound students, so she was the first teacher who really asked us what we wanted to be. That year, I thought I wanted to be a psychologist (thank heavens I reconsidered). She taught my senior English class as well, and I was her student aide. She'd been teaching for nearly thirtyyears and was one of a small handful of teachers at my school who could be called a great teacher. She did everything that held any measure of notice or prestige in our school: senior class adviser, National Honor Society adviser, teaching the two most difficult classes for college-bound students.

For years, when someone asked what I was going to be when I grew up, my answer was always, "I'll end up being a teacher whether I like it or not." It's a marginalized profession, and for a while I bought into the hype while apparently also accepting my fate - or something. Mrs. W made me realize that I could be a teacher and have a real influence, because I knew what sort of influence she had on me and everyone else in my high school. I decided that I wanted to be an English teacher; I wanted to be the next Mrs. W.

I know that, from the outside, it didn't look like I spent much time making my decision. I think that's probably the case with most decisions that I make. The truth is, I just run through all of the potential scenarios really quickly. After I decided which school I was going to, my chemistry teacher, who had been teaching for about fifteen years and had a son my age, asked if I knew I was going to study. I told her, naively, the truth: That I wanted to be the next Mrs. W.

I remember everything about her reaction. The inflection, the expression on her face, and the fact that she didn't really think anything of it before or after she spoke. She said, "Those are big shoes to fill." A very true statement, absolutely. But the way she said it...it felt like she didn't think I was capable of living up to my own expectation.

It was strange. Never before in my life had someone reacted with anything but positivity and enthusiasm when I'd set out to do something. Perhaps because my pursuits before had always been relatively inconsequential. But that doubt, or my perception that she doubted me, was completely foreign. From then on, I stopped saying that I wanted to be the next Mrs. W. I minimized it, watered it down: "If I can be half the teacher Mrs. W was, I'll consider myself a success."

You know what? Bullshit. I call bullshit on myself.

No woman ever did great things when her goal was to be half as good as her idol. Will I be as good as Mrs. W in the first few years that I teach? Of course not, because Mrs. W had thirty-plus years of experience. But to tell myself that being half as good is good enough - not fair. It's unfair to expect so little of myself, especially when I know that I'm capable of greatness.

So here's my declaration: Not only will I be the next Mrs. W, I will be a better teacher than Mrs. W was. Those are big shoes to fill.

Labels: personal growth, teaching

posted by nicalyse @ 7:25 PM