I teach ENC1101. Oftentimes this is the first course that a college student takes. When a new term begins, we are all anxious—nervous of each other and the material before us. I remember those first days, myself, as a student. I was not bound for college. I was a high school drop out with no idea I would eventually find my way into higher education. I remember the nerves and the tension of having to absorb more material than I thought possible. Of classes I thought I would never pass. And I remember the teachers who took me through it. Gently, patiently, easing my brain open to new ideas, opening me up to new worlds, new theories, new vistas, and new views not just of our world, but of myself. I remember the group work with other students grappling over tough questions and issues, the struggles over writing papers, and the epiphanies along the way. When I introduce myself to my class at the beginning of a term, I know that by the end we will share a special bond. The bond of having learned from each other, of shared struggles, of shared laughter, of frustrations and triumphs, of disappointments and surprises. To me the classroom is a microcosm of life. What better way is there to spend a day, but watching ourselves grow? It is said that in order to truly learn how to do something, one must teach it, and so by teaching I am learning how to do life thanks to my student teachers.
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