When I think about why I became a teacher, it's because I wanted to make a difference. I don't just want to make a difference, I am passionate about making a difference. While I've always understood what that means, and I've felt exactly what it means when it is happening, I've never been able to be any less woolly in my description of it.
Today, I was reading an article about the relationship between effective teachers and the passion they bring to their work. It states that teaching is, by definition, a journey of hope based upon a set of ideals, for example that I, as a teacher, can and will make a difference to the learning and the lives of the students I teach and the colleagues with whom I work – despite an acute awareness of obstacles to motivation and commitment (my own and others), the socio-economic circumstances of students, resource constraints, and policy factors over which I have no control. Teachers and teacher educators who are passionate about what, how and who they teach remain hopeful.
As a born pessimist, I've not always found hope to be my natural companion, so this statement really struck me. Because it made me realise that, yes, I have a strong sense of hope in my work as an educator, despite my awareness of obstacles. And more than that, it made me wonder if that is actually the 'difference' I am trying to make by being a teacher. By demonstrating my enduring belief that I can make a difference, I hope to teach children optimism, faith and hope. I recently read Learnt Optimism: How to change your mind and your life (Seligman, 2003), in which it states that hope and optimism are as important to success and achievement (and I'd add fulfillment) as talent or motivation, and that teaching them to children could be the biggest predicate of their success and happiness in life.
Having had a long and bumpy road to learning those skills in my own life and having experienced first hand the negative effects and setbacks a lack of optimism and hope can have on, that is how I want to make a difference. By teaching children (and teachers of children) the cognitive, social and emotional skills (along with academic skills) needed to help them succeed.
Today, I was reading an article about the relationship between effective teachers and the passion they bring to their work. It states that teaching is, by definition, a journey of hope based upon a set of ideals, for example that I, as a teacher, can and will make a difference to the learning and the lives of the students I teach and the colleagues with whom I work – despite an acute awareness of obstacles to motivation and commitment (my own and others), the socio-economic circumstances of students, resource constraints, and policy factors over which I have no control. Teachers and teacher educators who are passionate about what, how and who they teach remain hopeful.
As a born pessimist, I've not always found hope to be my natural companion, so this statement really struck me. Because it made me realise that, yes, I have a strong sense of hope in my work as an educator, despite my awareness of obstacles. And more than that, it made me wonder if that is actually the 'difference' I am trying to make by being a teacher. By demonstrating my enduring belief that I can make a difference, I hope to teach children optimism, faith and hope. I recently read Learnt Optimism: How to change your mind and your life (Seligman, 2003), in which it states that hope and optimism are as important to success and achievement (and I'd add fulfillment) as talent or motivation, and that teaching them to children could be the biggest predicate of their success and happiness in life.
Having had a long and bumpy road to learning those skills in my own life and having experienced first hand the negative effects and setbacks a lack of optimism and hope can have on, that is how I want to make a difference. By teaching children (and teachers of children) the cognitive, social and emotional skills (along with academic skills) needed to help them succeed.