As some final words of wisdom yesterday, my Teaching English Language Learners professor told us not to base our entire teaching career on our student teaching experience or our first year of teaching. He explained that we'll be going through culture shock, because strangely enough, this phenomenon doesn't just apply to actually moving.
That's when I realized that I go through culture shock every semester. I start in the honeymoon phase where I adore my classes. They sound crazy interesting. The assignments are exciting. The work load isn't heavy. The professor is fantastic at their job.
Then mid-terms start to creep up and I get hostile. Every single class is discussing the same fucking thing. I am so fucking behind. Free time? Ha. What is that? The professor is evil incarnate (but not the devil because that is mathematics).
Soon it gradually grows into spastic fit that is normally caused by lack of sleep, lots of caffeine, and writing lesson plans for an entire 5 day unit and I spew my brains out on somebody. Also known as "Lisa's micro-managed day" where everything is allotted time periods, including when I get to eat. This would be acclimation.
Recovery. That magic week before finals. For some it's called the "I-don't-give-a-shit" period. But for me, I'm all peace, love, and rock 'n roll because it really doesn't matter if I don't get stuff done. All that's left is a test.
Ah, and then starts the honeymoon for next semester....
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