Last night I started teaching again. I hadn't taught in about six months and was nervous. I'm not even really sure what I was nervous about . . . failing I guess. Isn't that what one normally gets nervous about?
At any rate, last night kind of sucked. For some reason there was another class in our classroom (booking fluke) and we had to hold class in this large lecture hall of sorts. Not everyone had the same book because the institute I work for, for some stupid reason, uses different versions of the same book for different classes, meaning that some people had the 2nd edition and some had the 3rd. This does, believe it or not, make a pretty big difference. So I abandonned my lesson plan (I also had what was eventually deemed the 'wrong' book) and winged it with the 'right' book. This lead to my leason being a little more frantic than usual and I think I overwhelmed my beginners. I think I also didn't realize just how beginner some of them are. At the end of class students started complaining about the book and about the padagogic principles of the book, uuugggghhhh.
Upon leaving, I ran into my friend Monica, another long-time teacher who had just finished an equally trying 1.5 hours "in the pit". We walked part of the way home together and bitched about trials of teaching. It helped.
And this morning I taught my seniors beginner class and, to be honest, I rocked it. This seems to be an ongoing trend in my seniors' classes. I'm not sure what it is, but we have a certain affinity for each other. So I'm going to take my senior confidence back into the classroom with me tomorrow when I teach the group from yesterday again. They will be wowed, oh yes, they will.