November 30th, 2006

Loz Cola

The hardest job you'll never give up...

I got screwed around by Centrelink today, and not in the good way. I have an appointment with a 'job network provider' on Friday. That sounds fun, doesn't it? I also have a telephone appointment on Monday, to verbally fill out some forms to claim for that which they call "Newstart Allowance". That's even more fun sounding. Hopefully the Government will give me some money until I can earn my own with those handy-dandy qualifications I have. There's no reason why they shouldn't.

I also went into University to collect assignments. My amusing tutor that I've already written about wrote two wonderful comments on my journals and essay; "Good luck, mon ami, you have an awesome mind," and "I love your work!" Hahaha. Amusing tutors for the win. Oh, that's right - unless I go back and do post-grad (many years from now), I'll not be having any tutors. I got exceedingly good grades for both my journals and my essay, if you were wondering.

My best topics, the ones I did very well in, were "Teaching to Special Needs" and "Teaching Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Students". I sense a pattern forming. And you might say that it's all theory, but I tended to do well with students who had special needs within the classroom too - both those who struggled, and those who were advanced. These are good skills to have.

I've been thinking about teaching a lot recently - thinking of units I could teach, classroom routines I could adopt, expectations of students - all of that. I said at the beginning of this whole thing that I was terrified, and I really am, but I'm also so much more enthusiastic than I ever thought I would be. I miss teaching. I miss the school climate, the work which occupies great stretches of time, the interactions. I miss feeling like a productive member of society and knowing that I am making a difference.

This whole not actually having a class to teach is kind of making me want to cry. Quite a bit. If I just knew I had a job - well, knowing me, I'd probably still be wanting to cry - but eventually I'd get my stuff together and God, I could totally do this, and it frightens, baffles and bewilders me that I want it so much. DECS, are you hearing me? I'm your girl. I want to teach! I want to teach in difficult places with difficult students! I can do this! Give me a chance?

I used to be a realist, you know. Since when did I get so sickeningly optimistic?