In my 16 years as a teacher, I have had my fair share of questions from students and friends about my career choice. “Why did you become a teacher?”, “Should I go into teaching?”, and even “How come you stayed so long at the job?”
I love it when students ask these questions. Beyond sharing my story with them, it is also a great opportunity to reflect on what brought me to the job and what is keeping me here.
What got me into teaching was simple: I accepted a teaching scholarship at 18 which allowed me to study what I loved (English Literature) and guaranteed me a job when I finished my university studies. Before that, I had intentionally applied for a relief teaching stint at a secondary school after my A Level, just to be sure I know what I am signing up for.
In those few months doing relief teaching, I found that I enjoyed the dynamic nature of student interactions. While there was some structure in how a lesson progressed, I could not anticipate how students would react. Initially, I would get worried when I went off-track during a carefully planned lesson. But these moments often brought about questions or quips from students, which I slowly started to welcome, as they showed students’ curiosity and confidence – and encouraged me. The bustling activity and infectious energy of students on campus was also an environment I relished. On top of all that, my supervisors gave me positive feedback, which assured me I could do reasonably well at the job.
What kept me in teaching for the next fifteen years was more complex. It was a mix of seeing the impact of my words and actions on students’ life choices, having the chance to grow professionally, and being in a job that expected me to reflect on my personhood.
Opportunities to deeply influence the growth of individuals
These reasons are not unique to me. In TALIS 2018, more than 95% of teachers in Singapore cite the opportunity to influence children’s development or contribute to society as a major factor for their career choice.
Over the course of a year, teachers directly influence their students’ academic and emotional development. In a school, there are ample opportunities for student growth, or “teachable moments”.
Sometimes, these moments come in unexpected ways. Once, while waiting for the bus home after work, I saw a student deep in conversation on the phone. Minutes later, she ended the call, came over to me, and said tearfully, “I just broke up.” I sat with her for the next half an hour, as she spoke through the raw feelings of a recent wound. There was little I could do except to listen and give her a sweet. A year later, she wrote in a Teachers’ Day card to me that the little piece of candy was a kindness she would always remember.
Over the years, many more students would talk to me about the rough patches they are going through. Failed attempts to run for leadership roles; conflicts with friends; losing in a competition; a family tragedy. While I don’t consider myself wiser than most, I am aware that I might be the first adult they are speaking to about these difficult moments. I think carefully about how my words and reactions might shape their thinking and feelings. In empathising with them, I hope I earned their trust; in conversing with me, I hope they learn how to face future fears.
Not many jobs allow such deep connections. I feel greatly privileged to be able to glimpse into and influence the interior world of my students.
Opportunities to grow professionally and personally
On the professional front, it’s the multifaceted nature of the work that keeps me on my toes – in a good way, of course. I often hear people saying this about teaching: a teacher just needs to repeat what he or she does every year. If that was the case, I would have grown tired of it and not lasted so long here!
Beyond the fact that every student learns differently, teachers also have the chance to try out different portfolios to develop holistically. In the classroom, I was honing my pedagogical knowledge and skills; beyond the classroom, I have mentored student leaders, been in the corporate communications team, written the civics education curriculum for the cohort, led the Education and Career Guidance (ECG) team, and facilitated the school’s talent development programme. These stints lasted between two to four years each, and together, they provided me a holistic view of how programmes contribute to the schooling experience.
In my current stint at MOE’s Corporate Research Office (CRO), I am getting another perspective of the career. CRO brings together policymakers, educators and researchers to facilitate the use of research knowledge to inform policy decisions. This has opened my eyes to the finer points of how research findings on teaching and learning support policy and practices. It has also showed how my practice as a teacher is shaped by education policy and theories.
Of the ideas I was exposed to, I particularly like the concept of neuroplasticity – the brain’s dynamic nature to reorganise and change with experiences. I recently learnt that when teachers understand the concept, they themselves recognise the value of the growth mindset and are more likely to view their students’ abilities as malleable through perseverance.
Through my years in the service, I am a strong proponent of making time to learn new things. I would actively ask to switch portfolios, and I also make it a point to attend courses that pique my interest. In 2013, I took time out for a Master of Education, hoping to consolidate seven years of teaching and to seek new perspectives. I often joke with my students that I am obsessed with learning and feel excited when I am grappling with something new.
I am aware that teachers’ actions speak as loudly as our words. The “obsessed with learning” quote stuck with my students, and I have had it repeated back to me a couple of times. Years later, my students also tell me that they think of me when they are considering further education themselves.
I am reminded of a Literature lesson. I was explaining a line of poetry to the class, when a student put his hand up and offered an interpretation which I thought was superior to my own. I struggled – would it undermine my authority if I admitted it? I decided to acknowledge the excellent point and told the class that it was better than the one I offered. Honesty is indeed a good policy here, as this episode encouraged even more people to speak up when they see a teacher is not always right!
Ultimately, what makes teaching attractive to me is how it develops human potential so fully – both students’ and teachers’ – and holistically, in both professional and personal aspects.
Photo courtesy of: He Jia Wen
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