My first memory of realizing I wanted to be a teacher came
when I was eight years old playing by myself in my parents’ house. I had set up
five chairs for my students (who were all played by my stuffed animals), and placed folders on
each of the chairs. I had created handmade worksheets for each student and
placed them in their folders. I would spend hours making those worksheets, and
then I would spend even more time teaching each "student" how to
complete the worksheet. Although it may sound a little crazy, I was so fascinated
with all of the different activities and lessons I could plan for my imaginary
class and I realized that I was really good at making them as well. From then
on, I had to teach anything I could get my hands on, such as our family dog who
I taught how to sit, lay down, and shake. My mom also ran a daycare from our
house, so I was surrounded by young children just waiting to learn something
new. I loved seeing the excitement on the faces of the children I helped learn.
Seeing the progress of the children from the time I began teaching them to the
time I stopped was also an incredible feeling. After my sophomore year of high
school, there was no doubt I was going to become a teacher. Knowing I will personally teach and have an impact on hundreds of children is the most
rewarding thought. I am prepared to accomplish my goals, no matter how many difficulties lie ahead.
