University Entrance

It was the summer of 2008. My fingers were still firmly fastened in a 'crossed' fashion. Was I going to receive my University Entrance and make my parents proud? Or was I going to end up disowned and become the shame of the family? 

In all honesty, I didn't want to attend any university. Never mind the pressure of being the oldest child and having every expectation thrust upon you - I didn't see the need. Times were changing, the rise of technology was imminent in the early 2000's, and my parents' archaic views of success were fading, along with the use of snail mail. 

I remember the day vividly. I was in Chicago; a privileged present I had received in my triumph of NCEA levels 1-3. The only thing that remained, was the official status of "University Entrance" - the only thing my emigrant parents could liken to an A+. It happened over a quick phone call. My mother was more excited than I had been. I realized then, that I had no idea what I wanted to do. 

There was a need for teachers - Primary Educators and Early Childhood Education. That's the path I decided would keep my parents happy, and one that would ensure I'd get a job. I noticed very quickly on my first practicum that I loved it. Being placed in a year 6-7 class quickly taught me that becoming the tauira's friend - was the incorrect way to approach things. Being in a new entrant class quickly taught me I wasn't made to teach in a Primary School setting. 

It wasn't until a very long and strenuous journey, that I found myself on Camp Morley grounds. With sweaty palms and the impending panic, running through my secretly introvert veins, that I met someone who changed my reasoning. 

"That's when I realised, it doesn't matter how much planning you do. You take that planning, slide it off of your table, and chuck it into the bin--

"That! Take that." They exclaimed. 

"What do you mean?" I questioned. 

"Use that. Don't get all in your head about it. I can see that you over plan and over think." We both laughed at that comment. "The kids will challenge you, and that's what's great about teaching. You take what they throw at you, and work with it." 

It wasn't until then, that I realised I had been teaching our younger tauira in such an archaic way. Why was I still envisioning a teaching practice that was as outdated as snail mail? The work that I had done with my family, and now my son, had changed in my personal life, but hadn't weaved into my way of thinking. My reasoning had changed, my first of many "aha!" moments had started, and I was hungry for more. 

Critical Evaluation