In thanks to the teachers who inspired me to TEFL

Our intern Jasmine-Leann is teaching English in Thailand, and here she casts her mind back to the teachers who inspired her to head back to the classroom.

We all had that one teacher; the teacher who didn’t fit the mould. Who stood out. Inspired us. Made us laugh. Taught us what it means to respect someone as we learn how much we respect them ourselves. As I sat in a Mexican bar on the very loud, sense assaulting Khaosan road with my two new friends we discussed this topic in depth. Sharing the stories of teachers who have inspired us. So much so, it has become the source of why we are here; 2 Brits and 1 Texan, sitting across from each other half way across the globe a long way from home, in miles and culture, following in their teachers footsteps.

It’s a weird concept edging out of teenage years into what we call being a “grown up” (still not sure the term has much substance) and suddenly you feel like your carrying the weight of a decision; the decision of what you are going to do with the rest your life. You subconsciously look back, referring deep into your informative years to find an answer, what do I like doing? What was I good at at school? How can I earn lots of money? And most times we stare blankly into the void being left unsure. I can assure you that every single one of us on the internship has a story of why we are here and 9 times out of ten we relate to this moment.

Each one of us could have gone backpacking from nice tourist place to slightly more expensive nice tourist place. But each one us sat there staring at the pages searching for more. Searching for that something to bring an even deeper experience. At that moment when your eyes first touch the words “teaching” you flash back to that one figure, in the jungle that we call school, that gave you hope, comfort or a touch of inspiration. You know that this is the experience, the challenge you were looking for, and trust me it is a challenge in more ways than one. Culture shock is an understatement.

As I stand there with a room full of smiling faces looking back at my own very warm sweaty face, I feel a certain responsibility. Some of these kids are lucky enough to come from a stable income family, but on the flip side, most of them don’t. We are teaching in a very small community where the opportunities are minimal to say the least. Most business are family run, handed down generation at a time and earn barely enough to get by. But with the ability to speak English, even if it be the bare minimum, it creates a possible opening in the future of these school children that they may not have had before. Even if it takes them as far as Bangkok, it’s a step further than the open front shop and a shack house on the side of the road.

Each weekend we pack our bags and scatter off around the country to experience waterfalls, elephant sanctuaries and reckless nights out, but then on a Sunday night we return to our small humble shared room upon the school grounds. As the weeks fly by the list grows larger and larger of all the things I am grateful for at home, and the number one on my list is my high school history teacher: Mr Irvin. His eccentric style of teaching, his energy and the inspiration he gave me has lead me full circle here in the blazing sunshine underneath clear skies to teach our language to these children. Wherever he may be now I hope he is still inspiring young teenagers as he did me, and can only hope that I can be incredibly lucky and have a similar effect on my own students. I have a lot to thank Mr Irvin for; this experience is certainly one of them.