Monday, June 6, 2011

The Act of teaching

Sometimes I feel like a full-time actor rather than a teacher. It can be something as simple as hiding my laughter when someone answers a question in an obviously wrong manner. Or more serious like on Friday when I was in absolute agony with chest pains but pretend like I was alright. In the end I could act no more and broke down and told the kids I had to leave because of the pain.
Why do we feel like we have to be superhuman in front of our classes. I share way more with my kids than I probably should. Most of them know about my battle with depression, they know where I last worked and that I went to the rival high school when I was a student. Yet despite this I felt I couldn't let them see me vulnerable.
I wonder if it would have been different if I had been at an all girls school, am I become staunch because I am surrounded by boys all the time? The teachers I remember most were ones I had a personal relationship with and knew as more than just a teacher. It's that fine line we seem to dance around a lot as teachers.

On an unrelated note my doctor wrote "tonite" on my medical notes. I just lost all faith in him.