Conversations About Teaching

A change is gonna come

“So, where do you work?” they asked.

“I’m a teacher,” I replied.

“English, right?”

“No, actually I am a history teacher.”

Over the years, I have had this conversation in one form or another quite a few times. I would be speaking to a new acquaintance or a parent of one of my children’s friends. Nothing too deep, just small talk. The question would present itself and I would give my answer — I was a teacher. Around 90% of the time, they automatically assumed I taught English.

They might have heard me speaking to my children in English or maybe it was a new friend from abroad who knew I lived in a non-English speaking country. Whatever the case, the math was simple: native English speaker + non-English speaking country + teacher = English teacher.

“No, actually I am a history teacher.”

“Really? Why? I mean, you know English.” They would ask surprised.

“Because I enjoy teaching history and I am not qualified to teach English. Teaching English doesn’t interest me.” I would say.

Molding the minds of the next generation

I have a B.A. in informal education and history. I enjoy teaching history and leading my students to enjoy learning it. Teaching history has it all: action, betrayal, romance… It’s a blockbuster movie or best-selling book waiting to happen. But there is one big problem. There isn’t a high demand for history teachers.

I was lucky enough to find a great school when I first finished my teaching degree. After four fantastic years, my wife and I decided it was time to move to a new city. Finding a new school was much harder than anticipated. After two years of teaching at schools that were not a good fit for me, I found myself unemployed. For the next 3.5 years, I was unsuccessful in my attempts to find another teaching position.

I taught adults in a prison for a year and after that, I joined the prison system for a year as an education officer. After being fired from that job, I worked for 15 months in a candy factory making chocolates. All throughout that time I kept looking for a new school to teach history in. I did not succeed.

The option to teach English was always in the back of my mind, but I kept going back to my reasoning that I was not qualified to teach it. I had a family and a mortgage, with barely any money saved up. I can’t afford to drop everything and go back to school to undergo training to teach English. Right?

“Hi Mom, I need to talk to you about something. I was thinking of going back to school to get qualified as an English teacher.”

“Good!” she answered happily.

“There is a problem. The program is very intense and I will need to quit my job. I won’t be able to work for a year.”

“We’ll pay your mortgage. Don’t worry.” She said immediately, before I could even ask.

“Thank you so much, but that might not be enough. Can you financially afford to match my salary until I am able to get a teaching job in September? I will pay you back as soon as I can.”

“I need to talk with your father, but it should not be a problem.” She replied again without hesitating.

“Thank you so much. I love you.” I hung up the phone and shed a few tears.

I need your help

A weight had lifted off me. I could teach English and I could enjoy it too. Right away my mind started to fill up with the different possibilities and the different ways I could teach English and allow my personality to come through while doing it. I allowed myself to feel hope and realized that it had been a long time since I had last felt hopeful.

“This could work.” I thought.

Three years have passed and I just finished my second year as an English teacher. It took some getting used to, but I have found my stride. I wasted so many years being scared to take the step and make the change. Thankfully, I learned the art of asking for help and it all worked out for the best.