NY New York by Jarette

NY New York by Jarette - December 2016 Scholarship Essay

“Can you eat soap?” The rest of the students laughed. Responding in the negative, I could not help but be amused that soap would be considered a lunchtime snack for a sixth grader. As the lesson went on, I could tell that I was nervous. I began stuttering, and my hands and feet were fidgeting. I was a complete mess in front of the children, but they seemed to be learning. This was reflected in their facial expressions of awe, horror, confusion, and utter disgust. Learning how to brush their teeth, apply deodorant, and wash their faces was akin to Columbus discovering the Americas, or Pythagoras inventing the Pythagorean Theorem. They didn’t know new information would change their lives forever.
At the end of the class, as the students walked out different people. They were graduates who had earned their degree in hygiene. I felt accomplished knowing that I had a positive effect on the children’s lives. But before I had a chance to bathe in my glory, one of the teachers, Ms. Tashaka approached me, a mask of disappointment on her face. She told me that she did not think that the children learned anything from me. Then she said bluntly that I was not a good teacher. With those six words my satisfaction was shattered into a million pieces. The pride I had was replaced by disappointment. I was disappointed because I failed so many people: myself, the teachers, and most importantly, the children. Knowing that I sent our society’s future leaders into the world, unable to take care of their personal hygiene had me feeling like a failure. I pondered this for a long time. This idea of me failing those children attached itself to me like smallpox to Native Americans. I could not get rid of it. When I got home, I began thinking about how I could make myself better. I thought about using my hands as I spoke, and explaining things in more detail. I was determined to find a solution to my problem in twenty-four hours. The next day, I went back to Bronxworks and taught another class.
When I walked through the classroom doors, I was no longer nervous. I was speaking loud and clear. When a student asked a question, my answer was elaborate and descriptive. I had become a sixteen year old version of Thomas Jefferson, one of the greatest American teachers. As if they could read my mind, the teachers and students shook their heads in agreement. When the class was over, the teacher said that I had made significant improvements. I was glad, not only because I improved my teaching skills but also because this time no one had asked if they could eat soap.
After my teaching stint at Bronxworks, I realized that I did not want to pursue teaching as a professional career. Despite my interest in math, history, and educating children, I have discovered that teaching is not my forte. I learned that I am uncomfortable in front of a class and I would rather be behind a desk. This experience gave me the opportunity to know more about myself, my strengths and my weaknesses. Even though I will continue to work on my weaknesses, I need to focus on my strengths to decide my major in college, the career I want to pursue, and the kind of impact I want to have on the world.