The Spanish Teacher

This week I started something new, something I used to make fun of (internally).

I’m a teacher.

More specifically, I’m the new Middle School Spanish teacher at a charter school close to home. When I was younger, I generally cringed at the idea of becoming a teacher and even in early college I immediately and quickly dismissed it whenever people shared the assumption that I would be a teacher. (My family had teachers and I didn’t feel mentally equipped to teach or simply it sounded stressful). Kids aren’t my favorite and once I decided that I did want my career to take me into teaching I made sure to let everyone know that I want to teach at a COLLEGE level and not like git/rascal age.

But that’s what I’m doing.

I would always fight people when I’d say I was an English major and their response would be “oh! English teacher!” I’d proceed to educate them on all of the other career options I could have with my degree… but recently I found myself unemployed and knew I had enough knowledge and experience with Spanish to teach it.

Bada bing bada boom.

I’m a teacher. It’s Hella weird. My first “half week is done” and I definitely see how these weeks can get and feel long.

Still, I felt strong this week, stronger than I thought I was.

Guess I’m thankful.