Perhaps the mark of a veteran teacher is when you have two hours of material plan, but only get to 1/2 of it, because the interaction is going so well.
For the 4th year, I've been asked to bring my National Writing Project training to help orient upperclassmen who will be teaching first-years as they are oriented to campus. There's a lot of logistics to the two-day (and more) training, but I'm only given the task to inspire ideas for them to think about, which gives me opportunity to list out what I hope they'd remember, while modeling what it can look like in action. I think the take away each year is how much fun it can be to teach others and how student-engaged interaction helps time to fly by. A part of me wants to rush them along to get all the 'brilliance' prepared for the lessons, but then I realize that letting them ride with enjoyment and interact with the point being made goes so much further.
I always appreciate how so many stay behind asking questions about what classes I teach in and in what department, because they "really enjoyed the style" I presented to them, and I think they run away screaming when I say that I'm in the School of Education and Human Development. "Oh, no. My parents would never allow me to become a teacher."
Still, they are teaching as future engineers, doctors, accountants, nurses, sales people, chemists, and computer scientists. They simply don't have to deal with the K-12 bureaucracy and mistreatment of being a teacher in the United States. They're run to the hills always reminds me how scary it is to commit to a life in education, especially in a culture that values zip codes and material goods over knowledge.
Oh, son. You can read, write, and think on your own time. You'll need to make money to live in this nation.
I was a little embarrassed though, because at the last minute I through in five corny college jokes to get the crowd going and there were two horribly spelled words that arrived as typos (because they were last minute). It was good, though, because I was able to give myself a B- at the beginning of the presentation, and relax the rest of the way to enjoy my imperfections with them.
What did the Buffalo say when his son left for college? (Bison)
Why did the sun skip college? (It already has 10,000 degrees)
Why do zits make horrible prisoners? (Because they always break out)
Why did the music note drop out of college? (It couldn't pick a major)
What do you get when you cross an extra-terrestrial with a Fairfield student? (Stag Universe-ity)
Bad jokes work every time, especially when you're a total dork. I also found homes for the remaining golden crowns from the MLK Youth Leadership Academy last year. I made them speak to one another as if they were British royalty in one dialogue exercise. Poof. They're gone and now out of my office. One less thing to figure out what to do with.
Well, hello, September. Nice to see you again.