Probably, there is no such person who would not remember his first teacher. And every person who studied at school has school photos. After all, every such photo is a piece of life, this is an opportunity to return to the past.
So I decided to look at photos from my school life. The very first photo was dated September 1, 1979. Here I am, a little girl, with a huge bouquet in her hands and a big white bow in her hair. And, regardless of weather conditions, September 1 is remembered as such: a sea of flowers, childish smiles and eyes full of joys, anxieties, expectations. Next to my first teacher.
The next photo has another date: again on September 1, but already in 1993. Not only the year has changed, but also the geographical position: these two photos share almost a thousand kilometers. I’m an elementary school teacher. I came to this school for the first time. Around again a sea of flowers, smiles. I am with my first students, I congratulate them on the beginning of a new life. What awaits all ahead?
But just like in 1979 my parents are with me now, they came to look at their grown-up daughter. Perhaps, at this time, her mother remembers her first class, those Turkmen children, whom she taught Russian. Although my mother is also a primary school teacher, but fate dictated so much that she almost did not have to work on her specialty.
Therefore, working in school already (or more) for 20 years, I constantly told my mother about school life, more precisely about the work of the teacher in modern conditions. She, of course, was surprised by my stories. After all, more than 40 years have passed since she last crossed the threshold of the school class as a teacher.
It seems that it should change? Everything as always: pupils, teacher, class, textbooks, notebooks…
But time demands making its own adjustments. School 40 years ago, a school 20 years ago… And a...
Being a teacher is very responsible. Every time I take the first class, I am am disturbed by the question: can I teach these kids to write and read, to count, and most importantly – to think and reason? Will I be able to find a common language with the moms and dads of my students?
To be a teacher is to love your profession and your students. But loving your students is not easy. If parental love appears at the moment of expectation and the birth of a child, then teacher’s love needs to be learned. When entering the class, it is necessary to notice who and with what mood came to the class, who needs a kind, affectionate word or smile. We must learn to listen and hear the child, because a little person wants to feel that he is needed and interesting. You must be able to love and understand not only a good, obedient student, but also someone who brings trouble, and maybe even trouble. How important it is to praise, support, sow hope in time! The energy of childhood is inexhaustible, one has only to be able to direct it in the right direction. Constantly asking myself questions: “What did I think about it when I was little?” Did she understand? “