I am a teacher. I have always been a teacher. From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed at night, I am a teacher. Teaching is a calling. Many people think you decide to become a teacher. You want holidays and summers off. You want a pension. You want a certain level of job security. You go to school and get an undergraduate degree. You either have a double major or a major/minor (you need two teachable subjects). Then you go on to a professional degree (the Bachelor of Education), and perhaps some graduate level work if you are looking to specialize. But I digress.
When I graduated high school I was expected to move on to university right away. After five years of hard work, and two undergraduate degrees later, I was a journalist. I had a yearning for knowledge and to share that knowledge. Journalism seemed to fill that desire…for a time. There is something inherently corruptible in a field that depends on “keeping the sponsors happy” or requires an editor to determine the validity of your articles, rather than limiting themselves to ensuring grammatical precision. Over the past ten years I have worked in retail, in a call center, and as a payroll practitioner. In retail I quickly moved into a leadership role and became responsible for training new hires. When I moved on to working in a managerial role for a call center, I took on mentorship roles on over a three-month period developed a training curriculum which included written documentation, scheduled dates and times for mentorship between senior and junior associates, and evaluative scales. I was a mentor at the payroll company too. No matter where I was, or what position I held, I was a teacher. At every step in my career, I have taken on the role of teacher.
I have been accused of many things in my life. Most recently, I was accused of being heartless. A teacher. Someone who wants nothing more than to contribute to the world. To instill a thirst for knowledge and to inspire ambition and wonder in the minds and hearts of those he encounters. This is the majority of teachers. There are always exceptions to reinforce the standard.
I am heartless because I am pragmatic? Admittedly, this does get me into trouble more often than I like. Let me give you a scenario (Please note – this scenario is entirely fictional. Any similarities to actual persons or situations is entirely unintentional.):
You’re dating someone for a little less than a month. You know that at the end of that month, this person will be moving away. You choose to enjoy the time you spend together, remaining entirely realistic that any relationship that develops will be primitive, at best, and do not want to allow yourself to get so invested that the ultimate end – however long that end may or may not last – will be all the more painful. On the second date, you clarify that when you part ways you will “do your own thing.” This appears clear. When the time comes, this fact is reiterated. Nothing is said to discount the statement. What follows is initially amicable text messages and emails that soon degenerate into restating what you thought had already been stated, only somewhat more final. Following that you are insulted, your intelligence is questioned, your consideration is discounted and your every attempt to remain practical and mature is twisted. And then you are called heartless.
Now…I am many things. I am logical. I am well-read. I am passionate. I am self-conscious. I can be arrogant, at times. I am a perfectionist. I find it difficult (though FAR from impossible) to accept that I am wrong unless it is proven with factual arguments. But I am by no means heartless. In fact, I tend to lead with my heart. I do not hide my feelings well. If I am feeling happy, I am visibly elated. If I am feeling sad, I emanate doom and gloom. If I am angry, by God you’ll see it in my expression. So what am I saying?
Is it possible for a teacher to be heartless? Well, few things in this world are impossible. Let’s just say it is highly unlikely. Do I need to learn to get over a hurt from a year ago that has left me jaded and overly guarded in emotional considerations? Absolutely. Is this a conscious act? Of course not. If we could consciously control our emotions every moment of every day there would be no crime. There would be no greed. There would be no violence. Mind you, there might be no art, or theatre, or any real passion at all.
To make a long story short (too late, I know), life is a journey. We are never done learning or maturing or changing. We are different from one moment to the next. So while I hated to be called heartless, I have learned something from the experience: Don’t rush to the destination. Enjoy the journey.
