My hands have been so cold from that session. I’m beginning to detest my job. I don’t know why but it might have something to do with my attitude. I’m not happy when someone is saddened or angered because of me….
Maybe it’s just my job. Frustration is what I feel after receiving words that I haven’t imagined that I’d be hearing when I was still a student. Before, I’ve always thought that teachers enjoyed the unfair share of power whenever a class is at session. It is the teacher who gives the questions and it is the teacher who gives the answers; in some cases the teacher calls a student and asks an extremely thorny question so that once again, it will be known to the class that there is only one who holds the authority; only one who can impart knowledge; only one whom they should fear- the teacher.
Yet now that I’m in the shoes of that which I hated before, I look at my students and what do I see? * tiny demons lurking about and waiting to devour their prey -> me. Ironic isn’t it? When I was a student, I was always successful in getting rid of stress and anxiety each day as long as I keep silent. Now that I am a teacher, I am forced to speak my mind, commit mistakes in front of a large crowd, and be confronted with malevolent beings (a.k.a. students).
The joy of graduating turned into bliss when I got accepted into this university as an instructor. However, slowly but surely, I’m afraid that this bliss will later be transformed into agony – maybe even remorse… Is this the reason why youthful teachers evolve into grumpy hags? I don’t know… What I only know now is that I’m in a state, which calmness nor peace can’t take place, for it is something that resides in the darkest and deepest part of my aching atrium… depression.
