It took me until a couple months into my second year of teaching to call myself a teacher.  For some reason, it was really hard for me to admit, as though it was something to be embarrassed and conscious of.  Leave it to a Jon Stewart episode to help me to become defensive of the profession of teaching.

I can’t exactly mark the point at which I began to think that I could possibly be in the field of education but it happened somewhere between October and January.  It was something that I have been denying for quite a while but now am questioning if I ever want to do anything else.  Even my facebook page claims that I am not a career teacher.

Now, I fall asleep thinking about if they did their homework and ate dinner.  I dream about whether I am worthy enough to educate them.  I wake up thinking about my objectives, strategies, rigor, and engagement of my lessons.  On the weekends, I teach Saturday School and coach basketball.  I get text messages and emails constantly and I am always checking my phone for them.

Now it seems that I am inseparable from even the idea of being a teacher, let alone the act.  I still feel as though I am fighting it sometimes, but in my heart, I can’t leave the idea alone.  I am consumed by every aspect of it.

Two years ago, I was still in college, with lofty idealism and a desire to change the world.  I was hoping to make a difference by turning my kids into students; however, they ended up changing my life and turned me into a teacher.