How I Became a Teacher - Part 1
My last post got me thinking about some of the things I have done as an adjunct over the years. I just realized that I am going into my 12th year of teaching at the college level. By the gods, has it really been that long? In that time, I have done some amazing things and yet some questionable ones. Nothing that truly violates morals or ethics but more of the "why the fuck did I agree to this?" sort of thing.
A lot of people ask me how I got into teaching. Yes, as an undergrad I originally majored in secondary social studies education. My goal: high school history teacher. I had a series of fantastic history teachers in high school that turned a subject I truly hated (and failed a few quarters of) into a passion of mine.
Then my senior year of college hit. I had a ton of education classes under my belt but it made me more cynical of the system than motivate me to learn. In one class, the professor said that we should encourage group work as it "encourages learning." I raised my hand to disagree with her. Yes, I was the one kid who did anything she could to not do work in grade school. So to me groups were fantastic: one person would do all the work while the rest of us talked about our boyfriends or some other mundane teenage topic. Even though every single other student in the class was nodding in agreement with me about the "benefits" of group learning, the professor looked at me like I grew two heads.
I also found out through my friends that the professor in charge of student teaching for my major was a misogynistic prick. He would do everything to help out the male students but criticize the female ones. He would do everything he could to make life so unbearable for them that they would drop from the program. Considering that I went to an incredibly liberal college, this was a shock. My boyfriend at the time would tell me on a daily basis of the horrors he faced with this man. I could only image what it would be like as a woman.
When I spoke to one of my history professors about this, he told me to just skip teaching high school and get my PhD so I could teach college. This is the guy I mentioned a couple of posts back. He was the main expert in his field and did some amazing things over the course of his career, including speaking in front of a Senate subcommittee. I truly was in awe of him so when he told me that he was confident I would excel in grad school and be a great professor I believed it. At that point, I changed my major to plain history and started applying to grad schools.
The thought of being college professor was just amazing to me. I could just see myself walking the corridors of the fabled Ivory Tower of academia, discussing fascinating subjects with colleagues, and doing the research that I loved so much. My undergrad life was like that. I had lunch with friends, talking about the incredible things we learned that morning in class and having friendly debates on a variety of subjects. This, I believed, was the way life should be like for me.
I got into all the graduate programs I applied for and chose the one with the best reputation: Big State University. It was an R2 university, which meant that while it was not the cream of the crop in terms of research and doctoral programs it came in a close second. After I got that acceptance letter I was so full of hopes and aspirations.
Then reality set in...
More tomorrow. :)
A lot of people ask me how I got into teaching. Yes, as an undergrad I originally majored in secondary social studies education. My goal: high school history teacher. I had a series of fantastic history teachers in high school that turned a subject I truly hated (and failed a few quarters of) into a passion of mine.
Then my senior year of college hit. I had a ton of education classes under my belt but it made me more cynical of the system than motivate me to learn. In one class, the professor said that we should encourage group work as it "encourages learning." I raised my hand to disagree with her. Yes, I was the one kid who did anything she could to not do work in grade school. So to me groups were fantastic: one person would do all the work while the rest of us talked about our boyfriends or some other mundane teenage topic. Even though every single other student in the class was nodding in agreement with me about the "benefits" of group learning, the professor looked at me like I grew two heads.
I also found out through my friends that the professor in charge of student teaching for my major was a misogynistic prick. He would do everything to help out the male students but criticize the female ones. He would do everything he could to make life so unbearable for them that they would drop from the program. Considering that I went to an incredibly liberal college, this was a shock. My boyfriend at the time would tell me on a daily basis of the horrors he faced with this man. I could only image what it would be like as a woman.
When I spoke to one of my history professors about this, he told me to just skip teaching high school and get my PhD so I could teach college. This is the guy I mentioned a couple of posts back. He was the main expert in his field and did some amazing things over the course of his career, including speaking in front of a Senate subcommittee. I truly was in awe of him so when he told me that he was confident I would excel in grad school and be a great professor I believed it. At that point, I changed my major to plain history and started applying to grad schools.
The thought of being college professor was just amazing to me. I could just see myself walking the corridors of the fabled Ivory Tower of academia, discussing fascinating subjects with colleagues, and doing the research that I loved so much. My undergrad life was like that. I had lunch with friends, talking about the incredible things we learned that morning in class and having friendly debates on a variety of subjects. This, I believed, was the way life should be like for me.
I got into all the graduate programs I applied for and chose the one with the best reputation: Big State University. It was an R2 university, which meant that while it was not the cream of the crop in terms of research and doctoral programs it came in a close second. After I got that acceptance letter I was so full of hopes and aspirations.
Then reality set in...
More tomorrow. :)
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