I ask myself two questions each day, often more than once. One, "are my students actually learning?" and second, "why the hell am I teaching?" I have concluded that I cannot answer either question which makes me wonder if a) I am subconsciously avoiding confronting such questions in fear of coming to a harsh understanding or b) I am too deep into an abyss of denial. Clearly, my ponderings illustrate my inability to navigate through my identity crisis. However, the other night as I stared at my "to-do" list, which seemingly becomes longer each time I look at it, I had an epiphany. I realized that I am mostly an illusionist. We're not talking Ed Norton's performance in the "we-heard-someone-across-town-is-starting-to-shoot-a-film-of-a-similar-theme-called-the-prestige-or-something-with-not-just-Christian-Bale-but-also-Eric-Bana-so-we- have-to-rush-production-in-order-to-avoid-a-Deep-Impact-vs-Armageddon-box-office-conflict" of the same name, but perhaps his career-launching and deceptively appalling performance in Primal Fear. Each day in the classroom, I create illusions that I: know what I am talking about, have planned the lesson days in advance, have complete faith in the abilities of my students, am a learned educator, am not starving or thirsty despite I eat mostly one meal a day, am not a sleep-deprived, and most often that I truly look forward to teaching my students each day. (Un)fortunately, nobody has seemed to notice which I can say is mostly a good thing.
So do I have to change my alarm sound now because I can actually find it still peaceful to listen to the teeth-grinding noise after a few hours of sleep due to the relentless work schedule? Yes, I do. However, am I totally regretting my decision to become a teacher at one of the city's worst-performing and persistently dangerous schools? The answer is no, although now perhaps my next entry should describe my budding masochism. Ok time to get my mind prepared for tomorrow's magic trick.
