Philosophy of Education
I am a teacher.
Sometimes I wonder why.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see resentment;
Resentment because I have two cars, a hot tub, and my own computer;
Resentment because I have a family that I can tell funny stories about; and a job.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see frustration;
Frustration at feeling he’ll never be as tall, or as strong, or as good looking, or as able as his friends;
Frustration at not learning to run, or to read, or to think, or to do things the way that others do.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see anger;
Anger at a world that he cannot control and a life that he does not understand;
Anger at parents, and at teachers, and at a system, for not keeping up as he has changed.
I am a teacher.
Sometimes I wonder why.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see doubt;
Doubt that any of this matters; to his life; to his future; at all;
Doubt that he can achieve; doubt that he even cares.
And I remember that what I teach that child is far less important than what that child learns about learning; and about himself.
I remember that I must talk with and listen to his parents, other teachers, the community; to him.
I remember that I cannot predict his future, only prepare him to meet it with a spark, as a lifelong learner.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see worry;
Worry that none of us care, know his interests, see his abilities, understand his background;
Worry that the world will be too different; worry that we’ll not understand what he will need.
And I remember that he is the centre of what I do and that I must know him, reassure him, guide him, toward a world that I do not know.
I remember that I care, that I nurture, that I provide an environment where he is safe to grow.
I remember too, that I must grow, must evolve, as my world, as the entire world, explodes with change.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see potential;
Potential for kindness, for politeness, for calmness, for irrationality, for explosion;
Potential for contributing through greatness; potential for harming through crime.
And I remember that if I assume the best, expect his best, give my best, accept only our best, then he will be his best.
I remember to be firm, to be fair, to be as non-confrontational with him as I expect him to be with me.
I remember that I am an example, and that through my example, I have influence.
I am a teacher.
Sometimes I wonder why.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see trust;
Trust that we will understand that what he shows us is not always the way that he is;
Trust that we will run his school to meet his needs and not force him to mold to ours.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see hope;
Hope that he will be right - for his friends, for his parents, for me; with his life;
Hope that he will please, and be pleased.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see a future.
A future bright with his energy; bright with his enthusiasm, bright with his desire;
A future waiting for him to be finished; with me; by me.
I am a teacher.
Sometimes I wonder why.
I look into the eyes of a child and I see so much.
But when I look into the eyes of that child with my heart,
I see that child’s heart.
And I let him see mine.
And without words, between our hearts,
We both know why ...
I am a teacher.