Layers

I'm walking around my room, figuring out what needs to be done to make every transition flow in my classroom. It's a few minutes before my prep hour. Students are moving to their next class. My doorknob turns with the extra force it requires, and two young men curve their necks around the doorway. They are sneaking a look at me, the new teacher. I invite them in, ask them their names, and I can't stop smiling. They are big, lanky, awkward teenage boys with little grins because they're curiosity has been quenched. They leave.

adrenaline kicks me. I have to catch my breath. I'm literally, at this point, so excited to start teaching the next hour that my hands are slightly shaking.

I'm not nervous. Not at all. My theory is, that if you have passion - which I think I do, you'll be fine. Passion pushes one to be excellent and work harder, to figure it out if it's broken.

Today was amazing. My students are excellent. Each class has its own little personality. My first class is youthful enough to be sucked into my curriculum with pure enthusiasm. My juniors needed to check out my street cred before they jumped on the bandwagon. My seniors, they're still wary of me, but that's natural. I'm their third teacher in a program where a single teacher is supposed to follow them for three years. They just wanted to know that I was purposeful, that everything in my class was put their for a reason and that my credentials checked out.

Okay, so I am a little nervous, but just nervous that I'm going to fail my students or not do enough for them. I'm not nervous about classroom management, investment, or knowledge of the subject.

I'm sure it's clear, but I have a miniature personal life at this moment. I will solve this with wine or Guinness on Friday night. Maybe find myself a man.