MTC First Year Summer Survival Kit
Ben has requested that we blog this month about what incoming MTCers should know about the program before they arrive. So here's my compilation of a combination of some very good advice and some very important truths I've come to realize in my nine months in the program:
1) It will be said to you a thousand times during your two years, and it will be true each time -- this is the hardest thing you will ever do. The hours suck, the stress is at times unbearable, you feel separated from your friends, family, and at times the rest of the world, and you're doing a thankless job for (mostly) ungrateful people. But it's worth it. Even though I complain probably more than my fair share, it's still somehow worth it. Even when I go through the three months without a real bright spot, the one student who comes to me and tells me my understanding while his father attempted suicide and his mother was evicted helped him out erases the previous months.
2) You can't do it alone, and don't try. One of the biggest assets of the program is the people involved. Take advantage of them. Go to the socials. Play frisbee (although be prepared to bring your A game). Live with roomates (for God's sake, please don't live by yourself -- anything to curb the depression that will inevitably take place). Talk to Ben, Dr. Mullins, or other people who have experience. Keep in contact back home.
3) This job will consume every ounce of you. I can remember having nightmares before I even started teaching about losing control of the class. Nine months later, I still dream about my students. Even when I'm on vacation, I can't ever fully relax because I'm worried about how I can get studens who are failing to pass or I'm worried about how I'm going to keep my students awake and interested during Macbeth. It never leaves your thoughts.
4) Laugh. A lot. You have to. The girl who cusses you out to your face -- that's funny in retrospect. All the crazy things you'll here come out of your kids' mouths is funny, although it may not appear that way until afterwords. The vulgar notes you take up, the inefficiency of your administration, the modeling squad show that the students will miss 4 days of your class for -- while all of it is frustrating, aggravating, and completely ridiculous, if you can't laugh at it just a little bit, then you won't survive. Which leads to the next piece of advice...
5) Don't think of it as survival. You are in control of your classroom. Your rules are not inane, stupid, too hard, or unreasonable, despite what your students say. If you let them know about it, then stick to it. If you go in thinking "I have to survive" then you're looking at things the wrong way.
In all, think of it as any other experience. Go in impressionable and flexible, but stern. Have fun with it -- remember, they're just kids.
1) It will be said to you a thousand times during your two years, and it will be true each time -- this is the hardest thing you will ever do. The hours suck, the stress is at times unbearable, you feel separated from your friends, family, and at times the rest of the world, and you're doing a thankless job for (mostly) ungrateful people. But it's worth it. Even though I complain probably more than my fair share, it's still somehow worth it. Even when I go through the three months without a real bright spot, the one student who comes to me and tells me my understanding while his father attempted suicide and his mother was evicted helped him out erases the previous months.
2) You can't do it alone, and don't try. One of the biggest assets of the program is the people involved. Take advantage of them. Go to the socials. Play frisbee (although be prepared to bring your A game). Live with roomates (for God's sake, please don't live by yourself -- anything to curb the depression that will inevitably take place). Talk to Ben, Dr. Mullins, or other people who have experience. Keep in contact back home.
3) This job will consume every ounce of you. I can remember having nightmares before I even started teaching about losing control of the class. Nine months later, I still dream about my students. Even when I'm on vacation, I can't ever fully relax because I'm worried about how I can get studens who are failing to pass or I'm worried about how I'm going to keep my students awake and interested during Macbeth. It never leaves your thoughts.
4) Laugh. A lot. You have to. The girl who cusses you out to your face -- that's funny in retrospect. All the crazy things you'll here come out of your kids' mouths is funny, although it may not appear that way until afterwords. The vulgar notes you take up, the inefficiency of your administration, the modeling squad show that the students will miss 4 days of your class for -- while all of it is frustrating, aggravating, and completely ridiculous, if you can't laugh at it just a little bit, then you won't survive. Which leads to the next piece of advice...
5) Don't think of it as survival. You are in control of your classroom. Your rules are not inane, stupid, too hard, or unreasonable, despite what your students say. If you let them know about it, then stick to it. If you go in thinking "I have to survive" then you're looking at things the wrong way.
In all, think of it as any other experience. Go in impressionable and flexible, but stern. Have fun with it -- remember, they're just kids.
posted by Peetie Wheatstraw | 2:28 PM
1 Comments:
good advice.
Oh yeah, and welcome to MAY! :)
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