Last week, I was excited. I was jumping out of my seat with anticipation. I’d go home with butterflies in my stomach knowing the end was near, and this whole process would have a big checkmark next to it. This week, it feels bittersweet.

There have been a lot of experiences I’ve been a part of here that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’ve enjoyed them so much that I have decided to remain a part of some even after I leave. I mentioned in the past that I’d be co-coaching the improv team, and I’ll be doing that well into February. If our team wins, I’ll be coaching until April.

What happens now? Well, Christmas, and then back to uni. I’m registered in a number of classes that I’m fairly excited to take part in. One being “Psychology of Music.” I imagine this will be quite relevant to what I want to teach. I’ve found through word of mouth that most people aren’t particularly interested in going back to university after internship has finished. I can understand this, in that when you’ve had a taste of what your potential career consists of, you just want to be done with university. I think I’m partially excited to go back to school because I feel there is so much more I can still learn there. It makes me wonder if I’ll go back to get another degree (most likely in the arts), or upgrade to a masters of sorts. I know that is not in the cards right now, but perhaps somewhere down the line it will be.

You know that feeling you get when something is finished, and you’ve succeeded and now you can move on to the next thing in your life, whatever that may be? This usually happens to me at the end of every semester. It’s not happening right now. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe it’ll hit me this weekend when I’m ACTUALLY done. My conscience knows the importance of this ending, but for some reason I’m just not feeling it.

Yesterday I had this strange experience while I was teaching my grade 9 drama class. I was speaking to them regarding something and I suddenly became… (thoughtful pause) self-aware? I don’t know. I just became extremely conscious of what I was partaking in. Kinda like how I was the first day of school. After a couple weeks of teaching, it started to become second nature and I would just do it. It would just happen (with the help of a lesson plan every now and again). Yesterday, while I was teaching, my thoughts in my mind were precisely this: “Holy s***! These kids are listening to me! I am walking around this class guiding 20-some teeny-boppers through this class!” I’m glad I accidentally took the time to realize that before I finished. Thinking back on it, it felt like taking one last look at your bare house, stripped of everything that made it what it was, right before you move out of it forever.

I have some friends who were also going through their internship this semester. A few of them have expressed that they will become waterfalls on their last day. I think I’m going to do the exact opposite. I’m just going to laugh my a** off the entire time. Saying things like: “Can you believe THAT was your semester?” and “If they let us get away with this, what can’t we pull off!?” I mean this in the best way, of course. It’s not like we played 7-up and duck duck goose the entire time (although we did play this game called duck, duck, gutenberg which is basically the same game, except a full-contact version of it).

I want to mention in this post specifically that I am very thankful to those who took the time to read this blog. It definitely made it worthwhile knowing there were at least a few people tuning in to what I was doing. Some people expressed ideas that it would be extremely funny to be a fly-on-the-wall in my class. Hopefully this granted that wish somewhat. Also, I’d like to thank those who have supported me through this endeavour. I can’t begin to name all of you, but you definitely know who you are. I know it sounds cliché but I couldn’t have made it through this without the constant encouragement I’ve received from you all. I am forever grateful and have a new-found respect for everyone involved, on top of the respect I already have for you.

Well, this is it, I suppose. It’s been surreal. I’ll continue to post, however, my posts may not be as significant or worthwhile as some that I’ve done in recent memory. Also, there is one post I held off on posting earlier this semester, for reasons that will be made apparent once it’s up. That post can be found here. It should be up for reading within the next few days.

I taught guitar lessons to students from ages 5-45 for about two years when I was living in Sherwood Park, AB.  This job came to me through a man who had started his own contracting company that dealt with music lessons.  He would get the calls from parents or potential students who were interested in lessons, and from there, he’d send out a selection of those people to me (as I was not the only contract teacher that he had).  In my first year, I had twenty students.  Most of the students that I taught had little to no experience.  At the time, I had thought teaching guitar was fairly easy and fun.  The job paid well, but was not full time as lessons were once a week for half an hour.  To fill in my extra hours, I picked up a job at Superstore.

Working at Superstore was an absolute joke.  The pay was terrible, the vast majority of the management were complete tools, and the work was mindless and excruciating.  I had three or four friends who worked in the same department that kept me on the edge of sanity, as I was clearly about to jump off it most of the time.  My shifts lasted around the 5-6 hour mark and they crawled by me at a snail’s pace.  It was misery.  To say the least, the last thing I wanted to do when I got home from such a shift was work another job.

Regardless, I didn’t have a choice.  I’d come home, and prepare for the 4-5 lessons I had to teach usually an hour after I got off work at Superstore.  I’d either get in my car or set up chairs and amps in my room, as certain lessons were taught out of the students’ homes, and some were taught in my room!  Pretty cozy work environment.  I started to realize that the environment I worked in played a significant role in the overall enjoyment of my job.  I also discovered that communicating with people was another aspect of working that I enjoyed, so long as that communication was constructive and/or positive.

My guitar teaching calendar ran on the same calendar as the kids’ school calendars.  Therefor I started up in September and finished mid-June.  During the finishing months of my lessons, I started to realize something profound: my students were learning. In the course of the year, I was literally witnessing the progress they had made as guitar players.  Some were playing along to their favourite green day songs on CD, while before, they couldn’t remember how to finger specific chords.  Some of the students had learned simplified versions of solos of AC/DC, and could play along in accompaniment, where before they had troubles picking the right strings.  I had specific students who could have been considered at the top of the class, had I taught all 20 at once.  They were playing songs with the skill level of a third or fourth year player.

In realizing that my students were learning, another light bulb illuminated!  Was I responsible for this progress?  Well no, not entirely.  Did I have a hand in it?  Absolutely.  I provided the students with the tools necessary to succeed, along with the encouragement that was due to them.  On top of that, I loved every single minute of it, even the minutes with the students that never practiced.  Thus, the energy I was bringing to the table became contagious.  My students loved it all the same as I did.  It became starkly clear that I had tapped into something I had never experienced before.  Kind of like the first time you’re conscious of the love you have for something or someone.  What I had tapped into was the notion that the reward of seeing my students succeed in their goals, and having a part in it, was more rewarding than getting paid to do it.  No matter how worn down I was by my mundane job at Superstore, I never had a bad day teaching guitar.  Never.

As I spoke with my friend on Tuesday, he said something to me that concerned him.  He wanted to know that I wasn’t one of those teachers that got into it because I felt it was the only thing I could get through in university.  I needed clarity.  What did he mean by this?  That education was among the simplest of programs in university?  No, he meant that he wanted to make sure I had my reasons lined up for why I chose education, as opposed to choosing by default because I wasn’t interested in anything else there.  I assured him this was not the case.  Not once did I choose to be in education simply because the other academic paths did not appeal to me.  Not only that, when I came to all those realizations of what teaching meant to me back in 2005-2006, I wondered why my own education couldn’t have been as exciting as this had proven to be.  I had so many teachers whose influence on me was more negative than positive.  Not one teacher that I had made me stand up and say: “What you do is incredible!  I want to do what you do for a living!”  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I had more teachers than I could count who made me want to say: “You blow at this, and I could do it much better than you.”  Now I’m not trying to boast, but I believe that if anyone cared enough to change something they saw being done wrong, they would.  It only makes sense that I should do this.  The fact that I love it and that I feel it’s a personal duty to the world around me act as motivators for one another, in that if I lose faith in one, the other picks up the slack.

In the end, I know why I’m here.  I’ve had doubts and second thoughts, but I believe that’s a part of the learning process in reaffirming that I’m on the right path.  This internship has been one of those reaffirmations.

Grading.  Grading grading grading.

Seriously, it’s not that bad.  It’s actually quite humourous when a bottle of wine is in accompaniment.  I learned a valuable trick while I was in class though the last couple years: never assign anything you will not want to grade.  If it’s going to be boring as all hell to read or evaluate, don’t bother handing it out.  So that’s saved me a little.  I still have a fair amount of grading to do, but my grading involves reviewing improvised scenes between awkward grade nines.  Hilarious.

Speaking of, I did finally end up having a certain student who had previously requested a zero actually get up in front of the class and improvise.  SUCCESS!  Not to mention the fact that she performed spectacularly.  Blew me out of the water, really.  Now she’s off to visual art for six weeks.  Best of luck!

For all those interested, I’ve had a little bit of down time and wrote a review on a music site for an album called Still by Dionaea.  You can check out the review by clicking here.

I’ve had this running issue with students.  There is a significant problem with them handing assignments in at the school.  Moreover, the school has a “school-wide” policy regarding late assignments stating that kids lose 20% for being late 1 day, another 10% for the second day, and a final 10% on the third.  So if a student hands in an assignment 3 days late, they’re instantly losing 40%.  Which will almost instantly fail any assignment that isn’t near perfection.  After 3 days, students get a 0.

I have one student who is purposely skipping class so she doesn’t have to perform a final project for the improv unit we’ve been doing.  This is quite literally the equivalent of skipping class so one doesn’t have to write a final unit exam.  I can understand the notion of stage fright, because some of us are not as keen on public speaking as others. This particular student has already had me call her parents and talk to student services in an attempt to avoid the task of public speaking. To me, it seems like the all the effort she’s expending towards avoidance is far greater than the 90 seconds of effort that would be required to finish the assignment. If her energy could somehow be re-directed towards breaking through her fears, what progress she’d make!  It’s beyond frustrating when a student straight up asks me: “Can you just give me a zero?”

She’s not the only one I’ve seen skip class because of something that isn’t finished.  The worst part of it is the amount of class time that I give to students to complete these assignments.  It is extremely rare that I assign anything without giving the kids at least some class time, if not close to the entire week to work on it.  So when I have half the work not come in on the due date, I’m literally at a loss for what I can do.  My co-op says I shouldn’t take it personally, and I don’t.  However, I really don’t feel like I’m doing my job when I have students just pissing away the time I’m giving them, and on top of that, not getting the assignments in on time.

Apparently, this is all part of the territory.  This is something that I have to learn to deal with, either by confronting it or rolling with it.

I have been working on a dramatic play with my coop teacher and about 40-some students.  It’s called The Somewhat true tale of Robin Hood.  I’ve mentioned it at the beginning of the semester I’m sure, and now we’re entering the week of performances.  On Monday and Tuesday, sister schools in the community will bring some of their kids to come see the play.  Wednesday through Friday sees the evening performances of the play.  I have invited numerous friends to come see the satirical version of the old folk tale.  My family will also be coming to the city for the first time in months to come check out the final product.  My significant other and her family & relatives have expressed interest in coming as well.

I just had to step back this week and observe the amount of support I have coming from every direction.  I have spent so much time thinking about the lives that I’ve uncontrollably been impacting, and really haven’t taken the time to see who I am impacted by.  It’s a great feeling to know that I have so many support systems on this journey.

Internship is really like that “make or break” process where you finally figure out whether or not you can live up to the task of being an educator.  I’ve gotten to the point in my internship now where I’d have to go out of my way not to make it.  I know there’s still a significant amount of time before graduation occurs and I get my bachelor’s degree, teaching certificate, etc., but what I’m trying to say is there is now light at the end of the tunnel.  Everything is looking pretty damn good from here.

Once Robin Hood is finished, I will no longer have the 10 to 12 hour days I’ve been having at the school.  I’ve also reached the end of my 3-week-block, and I will start dropping the classes I’ve picked up, beginning tomorrow.  ELA is the first to go, and with that, media studies 20.  Once I’ve cleared both classes, I can get to the massive pile of papers + assignments on my desk that need to be graded.  Once that’s done, well, I think I’ll more or less be done.

I have to say I am really excited for the end, but not because I want everything to finish.  I’ve made some great relationships with the students and fellow interns & teachers.  I’ve learned some incredible lessons regarding teaching that I don’t think I would have ever clued into if not for the help of my coop and the kids.  Those lessons I can get into later.  Regardless, I’m excited for things to end because it means new beginnings.  I get to start co-coaching the improv team in a matter of weeks.  I get to go back to uni, lined up with possibly one of the best semesters yet.  There are great things on the horizon.  Most of all, I can’t wait to spend quality time with those that I have not been able to over the course of the last few months.

On Friday, I had a First Nations Storyteller come to my drama 9 class.  I could not have felt more proud of my class and I have come to realize how that feels.  To be proud of a group of kids.  Proud of a classroom community.  After Hazel was finished, she kindly mentioned (more than once) that my grade 9 class was the most well behaved class she has ever had the pleasure of speaking in front of.  Now I don’t know if she says that to all the classes she speaks to, but it sure made me feel good.  Regardless, she was right in some way.  My grade 9 class listened as attentively as they would have listened to me, or one of their fellow peers.  I can guide a class!  I can do it!  Wow.  That realization was almost as surreal as how the first day of internship had been.

Students have also been bugging me about something rather hilarious.  I told a couple of them a few days ago that they could no longer speak about the video game Skyrim in front of me, because I have been too busy to get the game, let alone play it.  Not to mention too broke to buy it.  Now I have half the student body that knows me specifically going out of their way to talk about Skyrim in front of me.  Absolute torture.

By big picture I don’t mean the final outcome or product that my students learn at the end of the unit, or the final exam they need to write when everything’s said and done.  I mean big picture in a sense that there’s more to teaching than just standing up in front of a classroom and spewing out some shit I typed out on a word processor mere hours ago.

I’ve found myself doubting my purpose simply because I have begun teaching those lessons I don’t really care to teach.  The ones where I feel like I’m just pushing stuff in and out of kids’ ears to fill a curriculum guideline and/or protocol.  I’ve expended so much energy on the formal aspects of teaching these past few weeks that I’ve lost sight of my somewhat creative nature.  For the first time I saw reasons for why educator-burnout occurs.  It was frightening.  I felt this bleak sensation of jadedness.

I’ve spent the last two days picking myself up again, albeit slowly.  I’ve been taking small steps in my class and have been trying to push on sending out my true intentions and expectations of students.  I think this is a smart step because it will get me back on track with the kind of person I want to be, not only as an educator but as a human being.  I want to be able to show my personality however I feel I may have shown a little too much within the recent weeks.  And in showing too much I feel like I was behaving like someone that I am not.

Someone once told me as a piece of advice that I need to display consistency in my character.  I’ve been thinking about it for some time now and I feel like I’m closer to understanding why that is important.

I’ve successfully made it through my first week of full-time interning alive, but not without spending a number of hours outside of class prepping for what lies ahead.  This weekend will be more of the same.  But for now, I get to concentrate on speaking with a number of parents today about their children.  I’m not too sure what to expect as my parents never actually went to parent/teacher interviews.  I have spent most of the morning enjoying a quiet, empty classroom, listening to Radiohead and Thursday, and catching up on entering marks into the computer, hopefully it’ll be enough to keep my nerves calm once the parents come in around 2:00.  What I find particularly interesting is the fact that the meetings are no longer than 7 minutes.  Not that I have a plethora of things to say regarding everyone’s kid, but 7 minutes honestly seems like barely enough time to get the ball rolling should it come to that, in regards to conversation.

There is one parent I’m rather interested to meet.  Interested and slightly apprehensive, I should say.  The parent of a student, Z, who I gave a final failing grade in the class I taught him in.  I mean, I do have all my backing in order, all my peas in a pod in terms of why I gave Z the failing mark.  But one never knows how a parent could react, I guess.  Only time will tell.  Other than Z, every student whose parents’ signed up for teacher interviews are more or less at the top end of the class.  Peculiar, and might I say discouraging, how the students who actually need their parents involved in their education are the ones that don’t show up.

In other unrelated teaching news, we hosted another improv show at the school last night and packed the house.  The students from the improv group actually asked me to open the show with an original tune.  So I had my first official show in front of an all-ages crowd.  The real highlight though, as one can imagine, is the amount of talent that is shown during the two hours that this group of 12-14 students improvise their way out of just about anything.  I left with a sore face from laughing and a perma-grin.  This part of the internship is really what it has been all about.  I told one of the students who acts as somewhat of a leader to the rest of the group that “Every time I see you guys perform, I get the impression that there’s something greater in the works.”  These kids are truly inspiring.  I know I have said it before but I honestly feel refreshed, imaginative and in the mood to be worthwhile and helpful.  This sort of thing really acts as my fuel to keep me going through this whole internship process.

But more so, it calls to me to participate in whatever way I can, because I know that I love watching the act, so why would I not want to be a part of it?  I decided to volunteer my time as a co-coach to the improv team here at the school.  This will go well out of my internship and into my remaining university semester, but I couldn’t care less.  I honestly believe some of these students have a life waiting for them doing what they’re doing now.  It’s like watching someone’s life unfolding right before your eyes.

But back to the point, I was hoping to get my hands a little dirty in the music program here at school. With the conflicts in scheduling with the fine arts in general at the school, however, I would have to drop teaching drama in order to start teaching a general music class. At this point, things are hectic enough that the whole scenario is pretty much a make-work project, in that I’d essentially be picking up TWO classes because I’d have to drop drama, pick up music, and then pick up something else because I had ridded myself of the drama class.

I know, it’s complicated. Call me if you want to hear me vent about it.

So instead of grabbing a music class, I have decided to teach media studies.  This should be fairly interesting, I thought to myself. It’s a class of grade 11′s who are currently studying the effects of advertising on our culture.  I will be bringing the education straight to them on music in our culture, as well as its contribution to social networking and the effects its had on the music business in general.  I’m rather stoked, now that I’m typing about it.

Regardless, as I said, the inevitable approaches. I have exactly a week before my 3 week block starts and stuff gets real. This is the moment of my university career that I’ve been dreading and/or dreaming of for the last four years.