For years, whenever I thought of my future, I envisioned myself surrounded by the sound of fingers clicking on computer keyboards and the stress of nearing deadlines inching around the clock.
Yet another profession has always been in the back of my mind. Instead of working in a busy newsroom or public relations firm, every now and again I imagine myself teaching.
However, I notice that many times, when I mention considering a career in teaching, a certain expression rests over many faces. “A teacher? Why a teacher?” they ask in a voice that seems to expect more from me.
Perhaps it is the little money teachers make that sways them, or perhaps, the current era. Living in a time when children are killing children and students are raping their teachers and teachers are seducing their students, I can understand why, for many, the field may have lost some of its appeal. However, the power behind educators is tremendous. After all, who can argue against the fact that the true leaders of this country stand in front of classrooms rather than White House lawns? Base it on a level of impact. Teachers are molding America’s future by their impact on their students.
I must admit that there has only been a handful of teachers in my lifetime who have touched me deeply or stirred my creativity. In high school, however, I was mostly frustrated with many of my teachers’ inabilities to attempt to remember what it was like to be in high school. It is definitely not the “best four years” of anything. It is a fashion show, and although I was involved in my high school and had fun, I was dying to graduate and leave.
Now, three years later, I am enrolled in Core 305: Youth at Risk. I tutor at Vista High School, an alternative school for the Bonita Unified School District. There, teenagers who “messed up” (as they put it) in one way or another work to earn credits, one by one, to get either back at a “regular” high school or move to the next grade level. Some of the students choose to be there, others had nowhere else to go.
My experiences there thus far have stirred a passion in me that I did not even know existed. Essentially, I am working with the stereotyped “bad” ones of San Dimas and La Verne. Bad they may seem, yet bad they are not. Under each scowl and attitude is a genuine human being going through all of the same adolescent problems as any other teenager. Yet, some of these students are doing it without support from family or friends and many do it using poor decision-making skills.
However, I see a light in each of them. My biggest fear, though, is that they will grow up without someone helping or making them see their own lights and extreme self worth. I worry that someone will not point toward their hearts and show them the goodness each of them carries.
I have learned many things about myself through working with these ninth graders. I sit fantasized by my surroundings and by the hunger in me to work with each of them individually. To teach them not only about the rules of proper grammar, but also about the ways of life and the gift each of us has to live it fully. I do not want to give them limitations on their abilities, but instead, provide them not only a clean slate everyday, but also instill in them a sense of hope.
My future will probably find a medium between the two professions. Maybe it will have me balancing deadlines while grading finals. Either way, I believe I will find fulfillment. After all, education is crucial whether it is given from teaching America’s children or from writing in newspapers and providing Americans with a free education. What matters most is that I use my strengths and experiences and share them either vocally or in print with anyone willing to pay attention.
I realize that I may not be the next miracle worker, but it will not stop me from trying to break down each wall between me and those students and find the child still living in them. Because it is that child who is reaching out, and I want nothing more than to take hold of his hand.
Alisha Rosas, a junior journalism major, is editor in chief of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at rosasa@ulv.edu.
