Okay, so that title seems rather odd. I may have to change it.
But it sums up exactly what I've been feeling recently. That urge to get in front of a class again and mould their lives in some way.
I don't know if it is due to rose tinted specs, and maybe I've forgotten a lot of what I went through in training, and then actually forging a career (what there was of it).
Maybe it is because, now I've finally accepted myself, I want to inspire teenagers to do the same.
Maybe it is because, having been in the 'world of work', I know what students NEED from education, and I'd love to offer that (instead of a half arsed attempt at teaching Romeo and Juliet, or Northern Lights).
Maybe it is because, it is what I always wanted to do. From the age of 15, my education had been focussed on teaching secondary school English. Training contact centre staff never came into the mix!
But then I remember the names - I'd probably laugh them off now.
But then I remember the stress - I'd use my time more wisely now.
But then I remember the assault.
And I stop. And I think of the lack of support following the attack. The nerves going into court. The way I was treated as a liar, like I'd made that up.
And I sigh.
And I get on with my training packages, and my leaders guides, and my conference calls.
Teaching will always be a trigger for me. A weird one, but a trigger none the less.
It was something I did quite well - I had a lot to learn - but some 16 year old boy put a stop to that dream for me.
Much love my lovelies,