Finally, I relented.
Throughout my days as a university students (and thereafter), a question was (almost) always raised when I mention my major — "are you planning to be a teacher?" I had tried many ways to say that there are many career choices for someone majoring in mathematics and that I am not planning to join the teaching profession. (There is nothing wrong with being a teacher. It is only that I don't have many characteristics one would use when describing a good teacher.) However, it seems that my efforts had been for naught.
Before I go any further, I should clarify what I wrote. I did not work as an actual teacher, but rather a teaching assistant in a playgroup. However, those few days on the other side of the classroom (figuratively) had made me think about a few things about teaching (and some other topics) I had never thought before.
Often teachers complain about their preparation time, or lack thereof. While I still think (regular) teachers have enough time to prepare for classes, I do have a better understanding on how much preparation is needed for a teacher to teach a topic for the first time. Time seemed to travel at a faster rate than usual when I (and the teacher who I was helping) was preparing for the classes. Even when we allocated more time preparing the material needed for class demonstrations and discussing how the material should be delivered, we ended up scrambling in the last minute to get everything in order and to avoid running around to find what we need during class.
One of the most difficult part of teaching (to me anyway) should be keeping every student's attention. This can be difficult when one is dealing with 3- and 4-year-olds. They often yell out for no reason (to me, anyway), pulling the teacher's arm, legs, or whatever their arms is able to reach, and ask for their mommies. It is quite difficult to keep them quiet without raising your own voice and to resist the urge to swing the arm in order to loosen the child's grip on it. We are taught that it is not right to lie, even though lies like "she went to buy your lunch/dinner" may be the only way to get a child to stop demanding for one's parents.
Many children are drawn to new things and they like to play around. That sometimes means that they may get themselves (and others) in danger. They may move things when they are not supposed to, play with pencils (with stabbing motions), lift a chair and then lower them when someone else's foot is directly below a chair leg, or put glue into their mouths (thankfully, the last one did not occur). Yelling "No" often don't work and if one tells them not to do something, their next act is to do the exact thing that one just told them not to do. It seems that sometimes there is no right way to tell a child to refrain from doing something. (The classes I went to had less than 15 students. I can't imagine what would happen if I was asked to teach a class of 30 students.)
Even when you are able get them to sit down and, say, to draw a picture , they may take each other's work and draw something completely unrelated to what you asked them to do. When that happens, one has to find a way to correct them without saying "that is wrong". One also has to be able to say the child has done a good job even when the work looks horrible. It is simply too cruel to hurt the ego of a 3-year-old. After this, I am starting to think all potential primary school teachers should teach a class of rambunctious 3 or 4-year-olds for about a couple of months. If they do not have a breakdown or are not overwhelmed by the kids at the end of the teaching term, they are more than qualified to teach any elementary class.
Of course, it was not all bad experiences. Their enthusiasm was contagious. While some may consider them to be overactive, you sometimes have to concede that it is impossible to keep them quiet for long and enjoy watching what they do. After all, (I believe) most learn more effectively while they are enjoying the experience. Children, even though they may frustrate us at times, can show us that we can be optimistic about the future, that things can still take a turn for the better, and that there is hope for us, as individuals and as the whole species.
Somehow, I managed not to yell out in frustration or anger, even after the classes and nobody is around. Maybe I was too nice; maybe I didn't have the demeanour to assert authority; or maybe it is not right to lash out at children so young.
I am sure someone will ask me whether I plan to be a teacher in the future, even after I find a more permanent vocation. While this experience had been enjoyable and fun on the whole, the answer I give to this question likely will remain the same.