Why do I teach?

Holidays have arrived, after the final crazy weeks of term, in which our principal has left for another school and two of my favourite colleagues have also resigned. I have two weeks of hibernation ahead (coinciding with the coldest week of winter we've had). Two weeks of considering "Why I do this job" whilst trying to reestablish a more balanced existence.

California Teacher Guy asked me if had come up with any answers for "Why do it do this job?" I have to say, if anything the question seems to be just getting bigger.

My immediate answer is cliched: I do it for the kids. There is a lot of truth in this for me, though. I see a value in teaching in a part of town where higher education is not the norm, where some students are the first in their families to finish high school, where parents have never read a book. I love seeing that moment where understanding clicks in a student's brain and after weeks of complaining about studying Shakespeare, they say "You know, this is a pretty good story." I like being a patient ear for students who don't often get it elsewhere. I like helping students realise that there are many more possibilities for their futures than just getting a job.

But the biggest problem I have at the moment is the travel. I'm driving an hour and a half each day, over 70km, with skyrocketing petrol - this will soon cost $2500 a year. It's tiring. There are many schools closer to home that would make life easier, but the schools where I live are in higher socioeconomic areas where tertiary education is the norm and students are driven to achieve the ambitions that their parents or society expect of them. Around here, there is little difference between state and private education, so the temptation to work for a private school becomes greater (though the idea grates against my moral code).

I guess it is a moral issue really, ties to the strong values of social justice my christian upbringing instilled in me. Why do I teach? Because the idealist in me wants to make a difference, to make the world better, to help those who need it and appreciate it. The cynic in me is growing stronger though, but I desperately want to stop it from taking over. Unfortunately, I just feel so worn down, after four weeks of illness. The question I need to ask now is: Is it worth the sacrifice?

On a lighter note: a couple more Dumb and Dumber stories, one that made me giggle while trying not to smile, the other that made me roar with laughter:

Dumb: While introducing Macbeth to my Year 11 English class, we began to discuss themes and symbols and the role they play in the text. Most students were contributing to a discussion about what themes were. When I asked "what is a symbol?" Dumb replied, "Isn't it the round, shiny thing on a drumkit?"

Dumber: I was visiting a colleague's classroom on the last day of term while taking some photos of the school and I saw Dumber leaning on a chair that was still upturned on the table from last night's cleaning. Dumber was discussing something with the class and distractedly stuck her fingers into the hollows in the legs of the chair (the rubber stopper bits always disappear). After a few minutes, she realised her fingers where completely stuck. She stood up with an upturned chair sticking out behind her and began shaking it to try to get it lose. By this point, most of us were in hysterics watching her, but she still couldn't get her fingers out and only freed herself when a teacher and a student pulled one end of the chair and as she pulled her fingers out. True slapstick comedy to liven up an otherwise mediocre day.