What Makes A Teacher? Essay

1229 Words Nov 21st, 2015 null Page
There’s nothing like forcing your grandma to sit in a desk that’s too small for her, while pretending your bedroom is a classroom. As I child for years and years I was stoked when my Grammy would come visit from Washington, because I knew when she came not only her, but my mother, and younger siblings would play school with me. Although when I was younger I liked to be that evil teacher who thought it was funny to fail everyone, now it’s not quite like that. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. Of course when you are a kid and they asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up the answer was something along the lines of “A pop star like Brittney Spears”, except I am a horrible singer. Then when I thought maybe I wanted to go into nursing, as the pay interested me the most; my parents forced me to give my sister an insulin shot and my dad held me down as my sister sat there helplessly under my shaking hand, I knew that wasn’t the profession for me. I started teaching swim lessons three years ago. I worked with the preschool levels, ages 3-5. I knew then as I watched kids struggle to float on their backs, and by the end of three weeks when my skin was dried of chlorine and I was tired of dealing with them, I received the satisfaction of watching all ten of my students on test day float on their backs by themselves. The feeling that I had succeeded, that these kids were crying on day one and clinging to their mothers as I ripped them apart and forced them to go under…

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