This Teacher Didn't Teach

When I was a little girl, I used to pretend that I was a teacher and I used to dream that that was what I would do when I finally grew up. That was the only job I could think of that I wanted to do. I even taught my little sister how to read when she was four. We had a chalkboard and "lesson plans" and everything. To me teaching was the perfect job, because every kid knows...kids are awesome...so what better way to spend the day, than head to head with a room full of kids? The one thing I failed to see was that if I was going to be the teacher, I wasn't going to be one of the kids anymore. And as a grownup, it's a whole different ball of wax being in a room with 26 rambunctious youngsters. I admire and respect those hearty souls who do manage to do it, but I am the first to admit that it's not for me. This was the first serious career decision I ever made: nope, not going to be a teacher.

That being said, every so often, it's loads of fun to spend some time in the classroom. Especially if it's your own child's classroom. Take this morning, for instance...

First, a little explanation: There is an organization in our area that sponsors a supplemental art instruction program at the local schools. Each month a parent volunteer (or two) teaches a lesson on the work of a particular artist or genre. Then there is a project which goes along with the lesson. We do eight of these lessons per year in every grade at the Big One's school. This is my big chance to play teacher again. And the beauty of it is...it's outside the curriculum, so if all they take away from it is the name of the artist and maybe a memory of fun, then we as the "teachers" have done our job. It's the ultimate job for the teaching enthusiast-with-no-experience.

Back to today...this month's lesson was about ARCHITECTURE. I did not teach the lesson, but I was there to set up the project and help wrangle the heathens into submission. After a lovely presentation on the gothic, neoclassic and modern (among other) styles of architecture...the children came pouring out of their classroom into the pod. After a nearly futile ten minute scramble to organize the kids into groups of four (which, by the way, were already assigned before they came out of the class), we managed to get them settled down to their project: each group must design an elementary school~ front, back and two sides elevations. If you've never tried to explain an elevation to a second grader, it's much harder than you might think. Especially when you throw in the mix the plaintive cries of "all of our pencils are broken"... and "where can I put the pool table?"... and "can we draw whatever we want?". So much for the 20 minute presentation. Well, long story short...I don't think we've discovered the next Frank Lloyd Wright or Eero Saarinen, but it was still loads of fun seeing what the kids managed to produce.

Here's the point I want to make: Even though teaching is not something that I feel I would be good at...there is a level of satisfaction that comes from being part of the crazy mix in the classroom. Knowing the kids, letting them get to know you. Spending time admiring their work, correcting mistakes, guiding their creativity. It's more than satisfaction...it's a privilege to be able to be so involved. And the school/teacher spend all their time thanking me (what's that about anyway?). As a parent, there is so much to be gained from these little opportunities. It's allowing yourself the chance to take a peek into the world your child enters almost every day of her (or his) life. Just being a part of the class dynamic for an hour can give you more insight into your child's life than a weekend spent in their sole company. There is a chance to learn all sorts of things about your own child, about her friends, about her teacher, and about the school.

You can pretend all you want that you are the teacher, but the one who's really learning is you.