So, day one out of the way. The day flew past - it felt like it lasted about two hours, during which I didn't manage to finish a whole cup of coffee. I enjoyed it. Kind of. But I felt sort of useless. Here I was, imparting information and hopefully inspiring those who bothered to listen, but I didn't feel I helped anyone.
Teaching, in my humble opinion, sucks.
The whole point of my normal (teaching assistant's) school day is working with the children, and I seem to have taken a big step away from that. Okay, so I'm standing there, asking questions, answering questions and showing them how to do things. But what about those individuals who needed extra attention? Those who'd had a crappy break and were too miserable to take part in anything? Those children who had a sudden 'light bulb moment' and wanted to whisper, 'I get it now!' to someone? Who was there for those children? The teaching assistant. Not me - I was too busy taking the class.
When our previous Boss Lady asked me to go into teaching, I refused, because I said I'd be too far removed from the children. She said she completely understood (she'd been a TA herself, once). I need to listen to myself occasionally.
As a teaching assistant, I get to:
Front the class a fair bit, without having to plan any lessons.
Often work one-to-one with strugglers, or with small groups of children.
Really get to know the children, because they come to me with problems (emotional ones, not just maths ones).
Work in three different classes a week (that's children from year 2 to year 6), which keeps me on my toes and varies the way I work.
I also get to go home at 3.30-ish. This evening, I stayed at school until 4.45, then went home and marked work for an hour and a half. And I only had one lesson's work to mark. On every piece of work, I have to write a comment on what they've done well, and how they could improve things for next time. And it didn't help that Son Number Two looked over my shoulder and said, 'Why do teachers write that rubbish? No-one ever reads it. What a waste of time.'
I don't know what I'm being paid for these 8 weeks, but it's not worth it. No amount of money makes up for me not having time to talk to my children until the marking's finished. No money makes me feel better for having to say, 'Sorry, I've not got time,' when The Husband asks if I want to sit down with him and watch an episode of Blue Bloods.
I know I've only done one day, but I've had the least amount of marking I'll ever have. Most days, I'll have three times that amount. And then there's planning on top of that. So, yes, it's good experience, and at least I know not to go into teaching. I want to feel I'm making a difference to children, not just teaching them things. Joni Mitchell's right - you don't know what you've got till it's gone. Fortunately, it'll be back in 8 weeks, and I'll make damn sure it won't go again.
Plus, I want spare time for writing, and not just, 'You've shown you really understand what's important to Muslims. Next time, remember to check your work for capital letters.' (And that's when I really want to say, 'Please can you stop writing "How strange" next to everything that Sikhs believe. And sort out your awful handwriting.')
Teaching, in my humble opinion, sucks.
The whole point of my normal (teaching assistant's) school day is working with the children, and I seem to have taken a big step away from that. Okay, so I'm standing there, asking questions, answering questions and showing them how to do things. But what about those individuals who needed extra attention? Those who'd had a crappy break and were too miserable to take part in anything? Those children who had a sudden 'light bulb moment' and wanted to whisper, 'I get it now!' to someone? Who was there for those children? The teaching assistant. Not me - I was too busy taking the class.
When our previous Boss Lady asked me to go into teaching, I refused, because I said I'd be too far removed from the children. She said she completely understood (she'd been a TA herself, once). I need to listen to myself occasionally.
As a teaching assistant, I get to:
Front the class a fair bit, without having to plan any lessons.
Often work one-to-one with strugglers, or with small groups of children.
Really get to know the children, because they come to me with problems (emotional ones, not just maths ones).
Work in three different classes a week (that's children from year 2 to year 6), which keeps me on my toes and varies the way I work.
I also get to go home at 3.30-ish. This evening, I stayed at school until 4.45, then went home and marked work for an hour and a half. And I only had one lesson's work to mark. On every piece of work, I have to write a comment on what they've done well, and how they could improve things for next time. And it didn't help that Son Number Two looked over my shoulder and said, 'Why do teachers write that rubbish? No-one ever reads it. What a waste of time.'
I don't know what I'm being paid for these 8 weeks, but it's not worth it. No amount of money makes up for me not having time to talk to my children until the marking's finished. No money makes me feel better for having to say, 'Sorry, I've not got time,' when The Husband asks if I want to sit down with him and watch an episode of Blue Bloods.
I know I've only done one day, but I've had the least amount of marking I'll ever have. Most days, I'll have three times that amount. And then there's planning on top of that. So, yes, it's good experience, and at least I know not to go into teaching. I want to feel I'm making a difference to children, not just teaching them things. Joni Mitchell's right - you don't know what you've got till it's gone. Fortunately, it'll be back in 8 weeks, and I'll make damn sure it won't go again.
Plus, I want spare time for writing, and not just, 'You've shown you really understand what's important to Muslims. Next time, remember to check your work for capital letters.' (And that's when I really want to say, 'Please can you stop writing "How strange" next to everything that Sikhs believe. And sort out your awful handwriting.')
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