Ainsley on what she hates and loves

Almost every morning I wake up terrified. After almost two weeks at my internship I still get this uncontrollable feeling of anxiety as I make my way to Thandokhulu High School. I’m aware of how ridiculous, crazy, and unnecessary my nervousness is but at 7:30 am, Monday through Wednesday I get butterflies and shaky hands. In general, I hate not knowing what I’m doing every day. I hate not being able to understand people. I hate feeling like I stand out places. With all of these qualities in mind it would appear that I am in the completely wrong internship. And some days when I spend my time making photocopies or sitting through the same English lesson five times, I would agree. But I am fortunate enough to have these incredible moments with students that reassure me 100 times over of why I am where I am and why I love what I love.

I started off today the same way as any but it only took one grade-12 class to remind me why I feel such a connection to teaching. I was literally abandoned by a teacher five minutes into a history class that I only prepared about 15 minutes of information for. But everyone loves jeopardy, right? So after my short lecture about the Cuban missile crisis I started the game and quickly saw how much the learners reacted to the information and became involved. The kids who never speak started shaking their hands to be called on; the girl who shoots me dirty looks everyday was shushing her classmates to better hear the question; the teams were cheering on each other as they got answers right; and above all, they were participating and learning. I am about two weeks into this teaching game but I see why I want to do it so badly. Nothing can make me feel better about my day than these students understanding what I’m teaching and enjoying it. The learners at Thandokhulu are so intelligent and dedicated to their work that I am constantly impressed by how much they know and how badly they want to be at school.

For every bad morning, there’s a great afternoon. For every bad neighborhood in Cape Town, there are about 100 amazing kids coming out of it.