My Professional Journey
My dad calmly circulated around his GED classroom. I sat in the back hastily scribbling notes. With no prior warning and only minutes to prepare, my dad had informed me that I would be teaching the final half-hour of his class.
It was the Winter Break preceding my final semester of college, and when I returned to campus in January, I’d be enrolled in a TEFL Certification course. Wanting to observe an experienced teacher before starting my course, my dad, a New York City public school teacher for 38 years, invited me to observe him. Little did I know this would also be my first teaching experience.
The beeping of his stopwatch signaled the end of the exam and the start of my lesson. My dad introduced me to the class, but reminded them that I was to be treated no differently than any of their other instructors. I took a deep breath and, speaking slowly and deliberately, emphasizing each word with pointed gesticulation, I began…
Looking back, I don't recall what I said. I can only remember the sensation that rushed through my body during those first few minutes. The adrenaline pumping through my veins. The belief that I was actually doing it –I was teaching and students were engaged. It seemed the class was hanging on my every word. I was every bit as good at this as I knew I would be.
Then, suddenly, a student raised his hand. I threw my shoulders back, cocked my chin, and put my hands behind my back: “Yes, Homie?” Homie cleared his throat, but seemed hesitant to ask his question. After a few seconds of awkward fidgeting, he stood up and asked his question: “OK, but what's the point?”
The class burst out laughing, as did my dad. I stood frozen. When the laughter finally subsided, my dad joined me in the front of the room and together we answered Homie’s question. When the bell rang, students filed out of the room, complimenting me on a job well done. I appreciated their encouragement, not mistaking it for praise. When the room cleared, my dad patted me on the shoulder, and we sat down to review his observations. Before he began, he looked at me and said, “Zak, always remember that good educators are not born, they are made.”
As a young educational leader, these words have served as my mantra, guiding and informing the qualities and characteristics I seek to embody: a strong work ethic; a high reflective capacity; a commitment to professional growth.
I am the first person to school in the morning and the last person to leave at night, spending this time preparing for, and reflecting on, the day, always asking myself how I can do better. Thanks to these words, in both success and failure, I appreciate that everything is a stepping stone on my continual, unending professional journey towards becoming a great educational leader.