Beginning the MAT program in the summer of 2021 was exciting and terrifying. I knew that just 365 days later, I would be able to say that I had completed my first year of teaching, taking on total responsibility for one class just two months into the school year, and that by the end of it I would have been solely responsible for 5 classes on my own. The idea of planning lessons, much less full units and curriculums was not just scary but something I could not conceptualize. It was a hill that seemed insurmountable.
When the MAT program began, we were all coming off of 1.5 years of remote learning. Most of my senior year had taken place in my bedroom, with all of my classes being virtual. Mourning the traditional college experience while struggling to find joy and excitement in online classes had taken a toll on me emotionally and academically. None of my work that year felt like it was a positive or accurate reflection of my capabilities, and my self-confidence was shot. I felt lazy and angry at myself for not being able to work well under conditions that were seemingly easy- I got to sit around in bed all day! If I couldn’t do that, how was I supposed to manage the workload I was about to encounter?
In the first few weeks of my observations and teaching, I found solace in the realization that all of the students I was so worried about providing for were more or less in the same position as I was. All of us were entering a new and confusing phase of post-pandemic life together in real time and I have been so grateful for the opportunity to learn alongside them and hopefully teach them a little bit along the way.
The expectations that were set for me were high: to lesson plan weeks in advance, to provide support and feedback that was productive and equally given to all of the students I was responsible for, to make my classroom a safe and welcoming environment, to teach old books in a way that was engaging and relevant, to strengthen students as readers, writers, speakers, and consumers. It is inevitable that I stumbled many times along the way, but with each week tasks began to feel slightly more manageable, small victories gave way to moments of relief and confidence and I began to slowly think of myself as a teacher. This is not to say that the progress was linear. One of the greatest and scariest aspects of teaching is that every day is new and challenging in its own way, and “two steps forward, one step back” has never applied to my life more than this year.
The growth I have observed in myself spans many areas: in the realm of teaching, I have grown from someone who used to physically shake during 5 minute presentations to someone who does it every day. As a student, I have grown from someone who used to turn my mic and camera off to go for a jog during class to someone who cries if she is worried her lesson plan is not engaging enough. In many ways the growth I and we all have experienced this year is not quantifiable in the way I want it to be. Despite all of the growth that is still to come, and all of the ways I still feel shaky, at the end of the day, I feel like I have pushed myself harder and achieved more than I ever believed I was capable of.