What Teaching Kids Was Like & My Dream - 1

10:30 pm
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I was going over my year. It was really a roller coaster ride and a constant battle with myself. In that battle, I accomplished a few things. The biggest one would be finally settling a job and the other would be my summer art classes for kids.

So, I've had this dream of running a cafe. That's what reading so much Archie comics does to you. Pop Tate's Chocklit Shoppe, that was what my summer was made of. First, I wanted it to be a fashion studio plus cafe plus art. The best of both 3 worlds. But as my interest in owning a fashion studio blurs, my dream turned into an art-themed cafe. And then like a lot of myself, I forgot this little dream. Until recently.

It was this summer. I was going to therapy twice a month. I was looking for a job, no luck there. No motivation, nothing to look forward to, nothing to wake up for. Those were the gloomiest of days. All I did all day was yoga, walk around the neighborhood with my mom and maybe draw or paint something. I was thinking of applying to my mom's school as an art teacher. I told my therapist and she suggested that maybe I should start small and think of doing some summer classes for kids. "Even if nobody shows up, doesn't hurt to try." A million anxieties later, I designed a brochure & printed some at my home. I passed it around my neighborhood on my walks and posted it on a few groups of Facebook. To my surprise, strange people were actually interested to send their kids to me!

The first day was chaotic. 10 kids, ages 3 to 10. Some crying for their mommies, some eager to learn, some just wanted to go home. My mom helped with distracting crying kids. I just wanted it all end. The class went on for 2 hours and I was fighting myself to stay active. How would I do this every day? How could I handle unexpected behaviors and disruptions? How could I handle imperfections?

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The second day was a lot better. The kids remembered what they drew on the first day. They were excited to learn more. But some were still crying and some still wanted to go home. I learned to go easy on the kids and stop expecting so much. They weren't preparing to go into a big shot art school. They were babies just looking to have some fun during their summer break.

What's fun? I think letting loose is fun. So, I let them do what they wanted. I'd pick themes and let them draw what they wanted. I wanted them to explore their minds and their creativity. I even let them pick their favorite mediums. There was no right or wrong. There was only 1 hour of translating thoughts onto paper.

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Days passed. The criers and the homesick stopped showing up. The kids who loved art were having the time of their lives. They were getting better every day in their skills to draw and explore their minds. The 3-year-old was getting better at drawing fishes. He started painting abstract pieces without my help. They would suggest me themes. They became friends. They would tell me stories about their days and their cousins and their schools. They wanted to stay and didn't want to go home. They didn't want the classes to end. I was getting better with time too. I didn't feel anxious before every class. I didn't feel the panic or the fact that I was failing. I made it through every class with strength (and would collapse later).

Teaching kids couldn't be that hard right? They're kids, they don't know anything. Wrong! But at the same time, it's so rewarding. To be able to bring a change in a little kid's little life can be so refreshing. And I really needed a breath of fresh air to bring me out of that gloomy phase.

Part 2 coming soon.
Love,

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