Being the best of myself every day and believing in every effort could harvest something unpredictable but amazing change in me as a person.
When I consider self-growth, I often associate it with developing a new skill, such as completing a training program or earning a certificate — something tangible to demonstrate that growth.
Without a way to measure an individual’s progress in self-growth, the shift in mindset may be too subtle to recognize.
Last night, I finally experienced the influence of self-growth on positive energy.
I have two hours of teaching in cram school after my 9–5.30 work. It’s beyond part-time work but a putrifying time to savor my passion for English with a small group of high schoolers. It’s more like leading a book club than teaching in a class.
Then, I was noticed to teach a class of 7th grade upon arriving at the cram school after work yesterday. And all I could hear was my hysteric voice trying to quiet the class down.
Class management is a magic power that I cannot ever figure out. In the past, I either went hot-headed with the young exuberance or felt furious about their entitled arrogance. I often brought my perspectives into education.
But, as soon as I walked into the classroom and saw all the boisterous chaos, I felt calm and relaxed.
I interacted with them through a little game to learn all their names and by knowing them, I expressed my respect to every student. I held my ground to teach on stage and wanted the best for everyone during these two hours.
One student refused to tell me his name, instead of using the teacher’s title to criticize his obedience, I simply and genuinely asked, “Then how should I call you? I want all people to participate in my class, so I cannot let you lose your right to give opinions.”
Sometimes a few students would intentionally tell me a wrong answer, and then I would naturally start explaining this part from the very beginning without wasting time to tell them ‘No jokes, be serious.’
I let them know I trust them and want them to truly learn something in this class, and my repetitive explanations made them ‘surrender’ to be serious about their answers.
The two hours passed quickly; not once did I raise my voice or yell at a student. Instead, I guided the class calmly and with ease, even knowing 25 new students’ names.
I was proud of myself that night and started reflecting on why I knew how to deal with the situation and what made me change.
I became more resilient from writing, even if I wasn’t noticed or received any rewards.
I implore my nature from reading to know how to be myself in a discomforting environment.
I express my professional attitude toward teaching and compassionate care by knowing their names during the first class. (I apologized a lot for calling out the wrong names.)
I know I can do it and learn from experience in journaling daily to prove what I’m capable of. All of these gently shaped my heart to embrace either piercing or inward corner.
Looking back, the loneliness of being a second-language writer made me doubt my value until I realized it’s superficial to use money or jobs to evaluate the value of a person.
Everyone was different, and we all chose our ways of living. Being the best of myself every day and believing in every effort could harvest something unpredictable but amazing change in me as a person.
