Moji

My Persian Life
2013-07-23 17:23:23 (UTC)

Fear the Fear

Dear diary,

A couple of days ago an old, good friend of mine told me about this Language institute in the south part of the city. "They're looking for a well-educated teacher," she said over the phone. "So I recommended you." I'd be lying if I said I wasn't petrified with fear. After all, I had no experience or training course in teaching. I remember the first time I taught English in front of 40 students, who happened to be my school friends, my hands were shaky, mouth dry, head heavy, eyes blind. Even though I kept an eye contact with each and everyone of them, it was like I wasn't seeing them. My vision was blurred. So I feared this fear would happen again. I shared this with my folks and they insisted me to go. So I plucked up the courage and called the manager. To cut the long story short, she interviewed me last Tuesday. Satisfied with my English, she suggested me to observe 10 classes before any actual teaching. Today was the second time. Unlike other high-class institutes, this one's an old, cramped house with only one classroom and no staff other than the manager herself. There's no elevator or technology there. Every time I step on the high stairs, it reminds me of a dental office, and suddenly get butterflies. Instead of printed photos, there are kid's paintings hanging on the door. There's a huge air conditioner with loud noise which hardly let you hear each other. The teacher has no desk for herself, she has to sit on students' chair. These slight differences might matter to many others, but I personally don't care. The only thing that has made me stay so far is the atmosphere, the cosiness.

Time: 11:07 P.M

listening to Rihanna's shine bright like a diamond.




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