I am a teacher. Monday through Friday I teach art to inner city art students.
Thirteen years now and I have yet to feel that I've got it. That certain lesson or lecture or hands on demonstration that is going to mesmerize everybody, leading them to their own aha moment. I think that's what guides me and eggs me on. What sucks me in most of all are the stories. The quirks, the utter silliness that is us, shown most clear in adolescence.
Sometimes I come home from work exhilarated and content. Sometimes I come home preoccupied and concerned. Knowing that many of my students have a life that I once had keeps me in the game.
I think about when I was in high school. I was an introvert, quiet, no self esteem. Mediocre grades, no motivation really. A voracious reader, hungry for more than what I had. Books took me to another place and time.
I had a Social Studies teacher who took me aside one day and said, "You are much more than this.I see it in you.... Do something about it".
And so, I did.