Before I changed the way I taught, I changed the way I saw

I have been teaching for many years.

Many people believe that, over time, a teacher changes because they attend courses, learn new methodologies, or simply gain experience.

In my case, the greatest change was something different.

First, the way I saw changed.

Motherhood transformed the way I looked at my students. Suddenly, I understood many things that I had only been able to imagine before. I discovered patience from a different place, the importance of caring, and the value of accompanying without trying to solve everything.

And, almost at the same time, yoga started becoming an increasingly important part of my life. Like motherhood, it deeply transformed me. It did not only change certain moments of my day; it changed the way I was in the world.

When my way of seeing changed, my priorities as a teacher changed as well.

I stopped worrying so much about finishing a topic exactly when the lesson plan said I should. I started giving much more value to my students feeling good about themselves, finding their place within the group, and feeling safe enough to learn, ask questions, make mistakes and try again.

I understood that every student is unique.

And every situation is unique as well.

For a long time, I looked for strategies that would always work.

Over time, I learned that a strategy can help one group and not work for the next one. That something that works with one student may not work with another.

There are no recipes.

I also discovered that sometimes we do not need to do more.

Many times, it is enough to truly see.

The power of our gaze is enormous because the first thing a child, a teenager or an adult needs is to feel recognized.

To have someone call them by their name, look at them, and make them feel that they have a place.

When we truly see someone, we are not only recognizing the person in front of us. We are also telling them, even without words:

“I see you. I know who you are. I’m glad you are here.”

And many times, that alone begins to transform something, even if we cannot see it at that moment.

Teaching stopped being about applying formulas and became about observing, listening, trying, looking again, changing direction when necessary, and accepting that many times there is not just one right answer.

I also learned that I do not always need to have all the answers.

Sometimes, teaching also means being able to say:

“I don’t know how we are going to solve this. Let’s think about it together. Let’s give it a few minutes... or maybe a few days.”

Many years ago, I would have felt that my role was to solve problems.

Today, I try to offer tools so that my students can find their own answers.

After so many years, I am still learning how to see.

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