[This entry was written after my first experience in the classroom as a mid-tier student, prior to my actual student teaching experience.]
I'm not sure that I know what I was nervous about , but I was dang-near shaking as I walked into my first real classroom experience as a pre-service teacher. Now that the first day's over, the excitement-to-nervous ratio is slowly turning over in my favor. I could tell you that before I got into that classroom, however, as Jake walked me to Mrs. Williams' eighth grade English class, that my palms were sweating. A lot. Like, disgustingly. I cursed myself for wearing my light gray slacks that easily and identifiably soak up moisture because I kept wiping my hands on my pants.
Jake, who happily and eagerly did everything he could to show off his mastery in navigating the all-too-complicated hallways of the building, taught me my first lesson, that kids are secretly eager and excited to interact with their teachers. I may have been an exception in being young(er) and new, but I was still flattered and glad to have Jake to talk to.
I was a half hour early because I'm usually late. Timeliness is an issue with me in class, work, and other similar obligations, so I overcompensated. The class for which I was placed in began at 12:26 and I was sitting in the parking lot killing time at 11:39. I probably looked alarming to other people because Alicia Keys was blasting and I likely had no idea what kind of impression I was giving off. Mental note to be more conscious of that in the future.
Nonetheless, when I got to my room, Mrs. Williams (Kristen) was standing outside the door, smiling. I knew when I saw her that I was lucky to have her as a host teacher. She wasn't so scary and was instantly ready to throw me into work with the students, and I could tell that she was excited to have me there learning from and with her. I came during the middle of her third hour, and by the end I was presenting to the class a mini introductory writing prompt. I didn't expect this, so I nervously stumbled through the piece. I touched the desk, my thighs, anything because my hands were shaking when I was talking and I couldn't think of what I was saying as I was saying it! I'm confident this will go away, and by the next hour it did. Kristen said I did fine, and I'm sure she was telling the truth as hard as it was to believe it; I'm just extra critical.
In improving my persona and attitude, i.e. how I interact with kids, how I make a personal connection with them, my outlook, my attitude, etc., I think I merely need to gain more experience. My nerves need to give way to knowledge and experience, and I may need a year or two of presenting material and working with students before I become good at making connections. Okay, I will need a year or two. That's alright, and being conscious and aware of what I need to do now can only help me.
I'd rather, nonetheless, have my own class. For this I am eager. In this class now, I'm hesitant to try to talk to my students and relate to them. When a student is disruptive, I don't know how to react because I'm not sure of the class rules that have (or should have) already been established. If a student walks in with a black eye, I don't know enough about his background to approach him and see what's up. More than that, he doesn't know me, and I wouldn't approach me if I were a sniffling eighth grader with a large, menacing purple spot on my face.
In addition to learning about students and getting over my nerves, I'm learning that I want to teach. I want to be able to communicate with my students about what I expect; mutual respect. Hands-on learning. I don't want to give grammar tests. I want the class to be fun, but I want it to be disciplined. I want to trick students into doing work without them actually being aware that they're working.
I hope I'm not being too ideal, with my head up in the clouds somewhere over Mount Everest. But this is what I want. And I'm anxious to see how these things will change.
