Fork in the road...

With the stress of work at the moment, I think I'm becoming slightly jaded with how I'm viewing Westernized Education. There's a point when you realize that teaching is one of those occupations that can easily be classified as a 'thankless profession'. Day after day you stand up in front of a group of students who may or may not care to listen, or appreciate, what they have at hand, depending on their mood, or even the weather. You prepare these kinesthetic, visually aesthetic, song and dance type lessons, only to find a third of your students actually appreciate what you have done for them in that seemingly insignificant hour. Meanwhile, you have students in places like Ghana, Libya, Zimbabwe, just to name a few, who are happy simply to see one book to two students, rather than three or four, a chalk board with actual chalk, and a person who cares enough to stand up in front of them, day after day, and help them gain the most precious gift of all: an education.

Then again, I think there's a reason why most teachers choose to vote Democrat; it's a profession where you do not see immediate results, much like what the members of the Republican party often expect to see. Instead, education seems to be an occupation where the results of your hard work shines through 10 to 20 years down the line when, that once awkward pupil is now helping modern medicine branch off and find new ways to help those in impoverished countries, fighting in a court for the 'little guy', starting up a billion dollar cooperation that employs thousands of people during a time of an economic crisis, or even running a country.

As a side note, I think I officially found my favorite teaching quote a few weeks back: 'In teaching, you cannot see the fruit of a day's work. It is invisible and remains so, for maybe 20 years' - Jacques Barzun.

And yet, at 23, I question whether or not this is who I am. Am I experienced enough to ensure that the 'generation of tomorrow' is equipped today with the tools to properly run our country and world (it's a scary thought really...something that has, more than once, kept me up at night). Sometimes I look out the window of my classroom and think back to when I was in middle and high school. We had one day a year when people could follow around the Principal, VP, guidance counselors and a variety of other staff members. These students would dress up in suits and dresses, looking like shrunken adults, and get a taste of what it was like to run a school. Sometimes, that's what I feel like; a child playing dress-up for a day. What do I know outside of my degree and the ability to analyze a bunch of shriveled up old dead guys and gals (in all honesty, I love those shriveled up dead guys and gals...)?

Maybe, as said before, the stress of work is starting to get to me. But I still can't kick this nagging question in the back of my head: Who am I and where do I go from here?

Ah Pari...

*My Paris trip finally arrived, though it seemed as though it would never happen. Last week was beyond long and mildly frustrating during certain points. Regardless, it all seemed to wash away once I was on the train heading into London. I arrived at Kings Cross about an hour two early so I had the opportunity to catch up on some reading. I decided it was in my best interest to leave all work at school.

We arrived in Paris, after being delayed for a good 30 minutes, around 10:30. At that point we were both rather exhausted. Queing for a good hour to get a taxing wasn't at all helpful. Finally, we got to our hotel. I was a bit apprehensive about our choice of places to stay as some of the ratings for our hotelon tripadvisor.com seemed to be rather scathing. In all honesty, I think those people who gave the grim reviews came to Paris to stay in their hotel rather than go out out and take in what the city has to offer. It certainly was a 4 start hotel (with the exception for the lobby, which really did look like something out of Dracula). By the time we checked in and put our luggage down we were both beyond hungry. Unfortunately, we were surrounded by upscale shops, which meant nothing was open at 1130pm on a Friday night (with the exception for Bars--they don't serve food after a certain hour so they were useless). After wondering for a good 20 minutes, we were flagged down by a guy who, at first glance, gave the impression that he could be a potential junkie. It turned out the guy was from Texas and on vacation for one of his friends weddings. He had decided to stopover in Paris for a few days to do a bit of sightseeing. Ironically enough, he was also trying to find food, but had been just as unsuccessful as us. So the three of us banded together and I managed to spot a dimly lit convenient store that sold over priced food and other such related things. I don't think a box of fresh rasberries and a chicken sandwich ever tasted so good together.

The next day we walked along the Sien. Adam was such a trooper--Paris in the Autumn is so incredibly lovely and seeing as I have a new camera, I now have enough pictures to cover my entire apartment. We enjoyed a lovely lunch at a small cafe near the Lourve, were scammed by a homeless person who claimed to have found a guys wedding band (he got a euro out of us, not too bad really), walked through the little island that Notre Damn is located on, watched some street performers, and then headed back to our hotel. That night we ate in a restaurant that was so posh, I turned to Adam at one point during the meal and said 'I feel like an impostor.' Despite the fact that the price of the meal utterly made me cringe, it was worth every penny; the service was immaculate and the food was aesthetically pleasing (both to taste and sight). I have never eaten in a place as wonderful as that in my life--I feel almost guilty to have experienced a place like that at only 23.

The next day we met up with my cousin Aurelia and her fiance, Benjamin. It was so lovely to see them, and I'm so excited for their wedding in November. After lunch they took us around, showing us City Hall, Jarden de Plants, and Luxumbourg (sp?)--it was such a wonderful afternoon--I felt as though I was wading through some Hugo novel. After they left we made our way back to the hotel, packed up our belongings, and headed back to Guarde de Nord for our train out to London.

Over all it was a simply fantastic trip. I'm having trouble putting up my pictures on facebook, so bear with me, those who are eager to see them. Hopefully they'll be up by the weekend.

Time to get back to work. Planning and what not for tomorrow. Thank goodness it's Friday already!