I do this because....

I'm a teacher.

It's more than what I do, it's what I am.

After a few years in the saddle, there come moments where reflection rears.
Why do I do this.... that is chief among the questions.

It's not the "Why do I do this to myself" kind of query, said in exasperation after a horrible day. It's the "I need to better understand why I do this, so I can be better at what I do" kind of question. These are tougher to answer.

When I was a kid, I attended Vo-Tech. Back then we still called it that. The school was usually treated like a red headed step child, and used to dump students who were not going to make it in a 'real school'. To me it was way... way... way... better than 'real school. It was a place that made sense and actually taught something we could use, instead of underwater Latin basket weaving like the high school majored in.

The instructor was smart... very smart. When he wasn't teaching, he was working in his family business. When he wasn't doing either of those, he was helping the Air Force figure out how to drop missiles off air planes without blowing them up.
(Apparently it takes more than gravity). He was also kind of a hero of mine.

After I graduated and began working in the field I trained in, I stopped back to visit the class. It was.... fun. I wasn't there ten minutes and I was helping some of the students with their tasks. I showed them how to assemble a mechanism the right way, then to their dismay I took it right back apart and said "Now YOU do it!".

It took me another twenty years of working in the field, training the odd tech here and there, till I made the move to teaching. I consider it my own training period... I was mastering a skill to pass on.

One day, I stopped on the way to work and bought coffee and a paper. Unusual for that day, I read the classified ads. There was a small advert looking for a long term substitute teacher in my trade. By the end of the day I had an interview arranged.

My loving wife... who knows me better than I know myself... never hesitated. She knew up front it meant a large pay cut. She also knew the sub job could end and no full time job be offered. She knew I was shooting for a rare position.... there are only a few hundred people in this state who do what I do now.

My wife supported me all the way.

Now, with some years under my belt.... I can pause to reflect.
Why do I do what I do? For the love of it, and for my students.
Answering a post once on dream jobs, I could truly say: "Exactly what I am doing now. I am a teacher". There is nothing else I would rather do.

For my students.... it's like a drug. You can actually see it in their face.... when they finally grasp a concept and it all goes clear for them. When.... they find out they can do it.... and they are good at it.... It's like nothing else.

I do it... because it's worth doing. As an instructor I can change lives. I can actually do something that will change the future.... I can touch the future.
I make a difference. I do something that matters. It's so solidly real as to be almost painful.

Working with kids... everything matters. Every word, every gesture, every plan, every day. Reaching inside their heads and grabbing them... in a way no one else can. Not every kid, and not every day.... but enough to make it worth everything.

I do it... for the ones I can reach. For them, I go to work while many other folks are just getting out of bed. For them, I work hours past the 'union' quiting time.
For them..... I'd move mountains. To reach one and be a part of his life, that's greatness. To reach one... and save him... that's gold.

Kids don't know how to say thanks, nor do they need to to. They 'say' thanks by giving me their effort.. by believing in themselves when they never have before.
My students say thanks when they show up at the class door a year or two after they graduate... just to say Hi... and tell me how their life is going.
This happens almost daily now.

Teacher is not something you do... it's something you are.