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Retrospective Reflection
The fact that Im even writing this paper right now is already bizarre. The fact
that I spent an entire semester of stressing, panicking, loving and cherishing my
internship, the fact that my first ever class is now over, the fact that I dont get to see
the twenty students who kick-started my career of teaching every week is, well, just
that: bizarre. It was a whirlwind of a semester, both in school and in my personal
life, but I can say, with affirmation, that applying for this position was the best
decision Ive made in my four years here. I cried, I laughed, I was encouraged and I
was disappointed. I was upset, I was joyous, I was annoyed and I was humbled. I was
everything, sometimes all at once, but, above all, I was, and am, proud.

There are three moments that prominently stand out from my Section 65

teaching experience. The first was definitely a surprise, coming in the form of a
simple e-mail from one of my students. It was early on in the semester, right around
that time when I knew the names of all my students, but didnt know them. I could
pair names to faces if I reminded myself of the little hints I had created for myself
the first week. I was still drowning in stress, holding myself to a standard I wasnt
sure I could ever meet. I would arrive to my class over an hour early just to shuffle
my papers, whisper the entire lesson plan to myself, fix the desks once, twice, three
times then put them back to how they were. It was during this time of my semester,
during this seemingly bottomless pit of impossible expectations, that John, one of
my students, e-mailed me. I knew John. He was one of my most vocal students,
sometimes even talking too much at the beginning, and I was already panicked
about what his e-mail would contain. Was I too harsh when I told him he needed to

let others speak? Was I cruel when I cut off his presentation because he went over
time and class had mere moments left until the bell? Retrospectively, these were all
ridiculous thoughts. But having never been in front of my own class before, having
never truly understood the anxiety that can go into teaching, I was assuming all the
worst possible outcomes. Im a human being; I want to be liked by other human
beings! I was incredibly nervous clicking open the e-mail, worried I mightve
received that would vanquish my hope to be at least somewhat liked by my students.
And, thankfully, I was wrong. Extremely wrong, even. John had taken the time, late
into the evening, to find my e-mail address the class received that first week, then
proceed to write a formally addressed message, all simply to ask me about
semicolon usage. That means exactly what it looks like: he wanted to know about ;
that guy. At 10 PM, less than 24 hours before he couldve just asked me in class.

I laughed and promptly responded. And while this seems like a relatively

small thing, certainly not one, superficially, deserving that page-long-paragraph

build-up, but, looking back, that was the start of my real classroom. That was the
moment the wall was broken between instructor and student, something I had
wanted from the very first day. I wanted to be my students mentor. I wanted to be
someone they could go to, someone they could trust, someone, say, they could e-
mail at 10 PM about a grammatical question that couldve easily waited half a day.
Johns e-mail was hilarious, but it exemplified the achievement of one of my first
goals, and did so with perfect grammar! As a Creative Writing major, I thoroughly
enjoyed that last part. Goal one was accomplished: the wall came tumbling down.

The second goal I had was to ensure that that wall stayed down. No

rebuilding, no additions, no barricading structures of any sort. That goal was

achieved about halfway through the semester by a student well call Jane. Jane and I
formed a close relationship over the course of the semester, and it just so happened
that we accomplished one of my goals together as well. Again, the event was simple,
nothing flashy, nothing remarkably outstanding that one would assume to be a
worthy meaningful moment. It was the first time Jane and I walked out of class
together the start of a new tradition and she began talking about her dorm
mates experiences within their LAS101 classrooms. Jane stopped us for a second,
turned to me and said something similar to, They dont feel comfortable around
their interns, awkward, even. And I just told them I had no idea what they were
talking about because I consider my intern one of my good friends. The wall had
vanished. From the very beginning, I wanted to be an intern my students could trust,
someone whom they could go to with everything and anything. After that
conversation,, Jane started approaching me with other things going on in her life,
becoming very open and honest about her struggles, disappointments, and
stressors. That moment was another small victory (I think this is the wrong word),
another small-but-mighty achievement that lulled some of my fears. It was at that
moment that I knew, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The last stand-out moment actually came from a little interview video some

of my students helped me with. I had one international student this semester, well
call him Max, who was instrumental in the achievement of my third goal with his
answer to one of my interview questions. Hearing that not one, not two, not three,

but five of my students approximately of my classroom - had never been to

America before this semester started was insane, and I mean that in the coolest and
simultaneously most intimidating way. I was extremely humbled to take part in one
of their first experiences here, but, at the same time, I was also extremely nervous
about that opportunity as well. I wanted it to be a perfect semester for them an
impossible task, yes, but one I strove for anyhow. My third, and, arguably, most
cherished and sought-after goal, was to create a community within my classroom,
one where various cultures were celebrated, one where people could come in and
just talk about their day with whomever they were sitting next to. One of my
questions for the interview was, What was your favorite part about LAS101? Maxs
response? I got to know 19 new friends, they are all cool, I love them. I would be
lying if I said I wasnt fighting back just a tear or two when he said that. Not only did
the class have a joint Aww! moment after he shared that, but three people
immediately asked me for a copy of the video after class because it just made them
happy. That was actually a common answer for that question the camaraderie of
Section 65, at one point even being described as a family. My three most
meaningful moments represent the times and places where my three goals were
fulfilled, each one more inspiring than the last.

In terms of professional development, I honestly cant think of any other

opportunity that would have better prepared me for my teaching career than this
one. I have developed my organizational skills, my time management, my public
speaking, my patience, even. My favorite has been the development of handling, as
my family calls them, Oh, shoot! moments. Those moments when the projector

stops working during a technology-based class, those moments when you forgot to
respond to a time-sensitive e-mail from one of your students, those moments when,
to be honest, you did not fully prepare for that days class. The Oh, shoot!
moments. At the end of the day, however, I think its handling those moments that
forms you to become the best possible version of yourself. Life isnt smooth; its
created of bumpy, twisting, mind-boggling paths, each one daring you to follow it.
And, guess what? Nine times out of ten you choose the Oh, shoot! path. Its these
moments, however, that help shape us, that give us insights on what not to do next
time. Im very happy to say, I didnt have too many of those moments. But, as for the
ones I did, Im actually happy they happened. One particular instance happened
during our Registration week. I had had multiple exams and papers due the week
leading up to and following that lesson plan, so I didnt get my couple of hours in on
Sunday to make my PowerPoint presentation, to go over the plan, to add little jokes
here and there. I had ten minutes. Ten. I got to class later than usual, and scrambled
to make a somewhat cohesive presentation that would, at the very least, guide me a
little bit as I was struggling to come up with somewhat intelligent statements. Well,
it didnt work. I decided honesty was the best and is always the best route to
take, and, at the ring of the bell, I informed my students that, unfortunately, I was
not really prepared that day. That was a lesson learned. I was ashamed admitting
that to my class, as that was the first time it had happened. I rolled through anyway,
undoubtedly out of sheer distress, and even went over our allotted class time for no
reason. It was a messy day. I was definitely on the Oh, shoot! path, and I definitely
needed to get off of it. So that day, I went home, did some research, and spent over

an hour constructing a step-by-step plan for each of my students to follow when

registering. I considered all possible detours, all possible Oh, shoot! paths that
could come from the registration process and tried to incorporate helpful hints
along the way. This internship, above all else, helped me with my professional
development. That sounds obvious, but its the best way I can put it. Ive always
been sort of a goof, a loud extrovert that enjoys making people laugh. To have that
moment of admitting my wrongdoing to my class and having to spend that time
fixing my mistake was huge, and Im not sure it wouldve come so spontaneously
had I not gained some experience already from LAS101.
There was one particular day in LAS399 that stands out the most for me, and
that was when we covered the topic of diversity. I thought we had a good discussion
going, pretty fluid, pretty interesting, when Hope stopped the class. Everyone fell
silent, and I, for one, was racking my brain to think if anyone had said something
offensive. That wasnt what she was looking for, though. Hope simply asked, Why is
no one talking about race? Economic class? Sexual orientation? That was eye-
opening for me, and a moment that has stuck with me since those three questions
were asked of us. I hadnt even realized those three topics hadnt come up before.
We were talking about the different sports we play, our hometowns, the color of our
hair, even our religions, but no one had brought up race, class, or sexual orientation.
We all offered explanations, saying that those things are more personal, maybe
more private, but, in the end, and I realize this now, those are the very things that
make diversity so enriching. Why were we, as a society, superficially trained to not
bring up those topics? Why do we attach so much to each of these questions? I think,

the key to maintaining a positivity-driven diverse environment is not having the

need to ask those questions. I think our issue now is ignoring them, of being worried
to offend someone by asking them. Hopes question reminded me that diversity is
something to be acknowledged, to be proud of, to be celebrated.