A teacher's metaphor...

I am a traffic cop in the middle of a busy intersection. The traffic is flying by me as I wave it through, holding my other hand out to keep the opposing traffic still. I continually have to switch where I’m looking, dividing my attention; now paying attention to the obvious danger to my being as vehicles charge toward me (and then past), their massive hulks making me force down my native fight-or-flight instinct. And now I watch the stopped traffic, knowing that if I break eye contact for too long, a few of the group may attempt to break away, rolling through the stop, making right-hand turns on red. Soon I will lower the raised hand and raise the lowered hand. Some will stop for a bit, and some will move on. And I will stay where I am—moderating traffic.




Another day...
So, what does it mean to be a teacher?


Well, I have a gut urge to get all poetic and image-tastic, but I’ve done that already, and maybe today I feel different. I’m going to do a bulleted list, just to break it up a little.

Being a teacher means:

1.      I get paid by the state to learn, forever and ever.

2.      I get paid by the state to love EVERYONE, which is like getting paid to accrue good karma.

3.      I get paid by the state to spend the summer, Christmas vacation, Spring Break, etc…, with my wife and the boys.

4.      I get paid by the state to learn patience.

5.      I get paid by the state to talk to like-minded people every day (I’m talking about the teachers…mostly).

6.      I get paid by the state to make a difference.

7.      I get paid by the state to peel back the layers of boredom and dissatisfaction (if I was teaching my students some random vocab, I’d say ennui, but that may be something you can’t feel unless you know what it is already), and replace them with excitement and interest.

8.      I get paid by the state to feel satisfaction with what I do with most of my time.

Who else can say those things? Am I living off welfare?