Hellish

Though my graduate program will run through the end of July, I have finally completed my thesis, which is one major hurdle out of my way. Though I had initially dismissed the undertaking as something I was merely going to do rather than be proud of, I switched plans and actually put effort into it when I realized how therapeutic it was to pursue the writing with an extreme level of candor. Most theses completed for this program are overly positive outpourings of BS wherein teachers reflect on their amazing students and the way they have changed their life and consequently the world around them. I didn't even attempt to fudge my experiences and instead approached the assignment with my general cynicism and dejected outlook on teaching after my first year on the job.

I understood that it probably wouldn't be well-received, but I wanted to defy the norm on this assignment. To my surprise, my gamble paid off, as I was given an award for my thesis by my school. It was announced as a "refreshing, honest departure" from the usual thesis. It's nice to be recognized for openly airing my failures as a teacher. I'd hazard that I'm one of just a few people who uses the word "hellish" in the opening sentence of eir thesis, let alone the only one to be rewarded for doing so. I'd like to thank all of my brats for giving me an endless supply of material for the thesis. Oh, and of course, I'd also like to thank God, without whom my students would not be the morally hypocritical twits worth writing about.

I'm still not sure where my head is at in regards to my future in teaching. Even my own adviser, who I love to death, gave me a gift that said, "Every exit is an entry somewhere else." - Tom Stoppard. I've never explicitly told her that I constantly consider bailing on teaching, but she clearly has me pegged - and still couldn't be any prouder.

For a while, I wanted to quit and never look back. More recently, I've been eager to undergo a second year of teaching to see what I am capable of without the added stress of being a full time student, as well. By next year, I should have an idea of what works and doesn't work, and, with any luck, might actually teach my students something. In a sense, I don't want to admit defeat before I've had the opportunity to give it a genuine try.

I won the aforementioned thesis award on Saturday with a handful of other people including Jessica, the classmate who lied to the reporter, and a very smily Spanish teacher. This last teacher was in eir thirties, married with kids, and on top of eir game. Two days later, ey dropped dead in eir classroom. This tragedy has really affected me, though I'm not sure I can pinpoint how. I lament the loss of such a warm person, and think it entirely sucks to have this happen after going through so much work. If I were to drop dead, I'm not sure I'd be satisfied with my professional accomplishments. Maybe I don't want to stick with a job I don't see myself in for the long haul. Will a continuation of my current job prove fulfilling or a waste of time?