What I’m Really Here For

November 16, 2008 in The Way It Were

I applied online. The online application was already filled out from the last time I applied, so all I had to do was revise my current living address. I was almost done when I came to my personal statement.

It isn’t as dated as I would have thought.

I’ve always wanted to be a teacher, at least since I graduated high school.

I find it ridiculous that half the state didn’t pass the exit exam that first year. As I am young, I am also ten feet tall and bulletproof. I will single-handedly combat the ills in the decrepit, underfunded and outdated American school system.

I am well-prepared to do it, too. My experience as a camp counselor exposed me to the triumphs within seasonal work, long hours and low pay for a thankless job that most of my peers don’t take seriously.

I’m coming into this job with my eyes wide open. I’ll do just fine.

That’s good, basically. I wrote it in five minutes on a school computer, itching to finish up the process already, so I did a mighty fine job, considering.

I paused a moment to consider the statement — it’s good, but not complete. Just before the end, I added another paragraph, for the sake of full, unrelenting disclosure.

I won’t be doing this alone. I intend to write publicly about my personal experiences in the classroom, so as to blaze a trail for other prospective teachers, to gauge my own progress and to elicit advice from education’s professionals.

Submit.

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