I’m Lucky to Be Here

A reflection on returning to the present moment and rediscovering the joy of teaching.

How do we continue enjoying teaching after so many years?

I sometimes ask myself this question.

Because, as time goes by, many things can happen. We can continue loving our profession, caring about our students, preparing lessons, looking for new ways to teach, and giving the best of ourselves.

But it can also happen that, among all the demands that surround teaching, something begins to change.

Between lesson plans, meetings, reports, deadlines and so many things we need to manage, we can start being in the classroom without being completely present.

Our minds are thinking about what still needs to be finished, what we have to do next, and everything we have not managed to complete yet.

And, without realizing it, we stop fully experiencing the moment we are sharing with our students.

Over the years, I have understood that an essential part of enjoying teaching is learning to come back.

To really be there.

Because teaching, for me, has always been connected to those small moments that may seem simple, but that are actually the ones that give meaning to everything.

A child’s face when they discover they can read and proudly say:
“Look! I can read!”

A teenager who begins the year convinced that English is not for them and, a few months later, surprises themselves by discovering everything they are capable of doing.

Those are the moments that remind us why we chose this profession.

But being present does not mean always arriving calm, without worries or with everything figured out.

We are human beings.

We come into the classroom carrying our own stories, our emotions, and everything that happened before we walked through the door.

Being present does not mean that nothing affects us.

It means being able to recognize how we are feeling and come back.

Just like when the GPS says: “recalculating.”

It does not mean we are lost.

It means we pause, look at where we are, and choose again where we want to go.

Sometimes recalculating means taking a few breaths before we begin.

Sometimes it means recognizing that we need to slow down.

Sometimes it is simply taking a moment to reconnect with the experience we are living.

Because when I am present in my classroom, something changes.

I can listen better.

I can see better.

I can connect with what is happening.

I can allow myself to be surprised.

Because a class is not only an activity, a subject or a lesson plan.

A class is an encounter between people.

I can do the same activity with two different groups, and it will never be exactly the same.

The questions change.

The looks change.

The energy of the group changes.

The way each person participates changes.

Because, even when the teacher is the same, the people in front of us are different.

And that is one of the most wonderful things about teaching: every class is a new opportunity.

Many times, we believe that we are the ones helping our students find calm, confidence and security.

But it also happens the other way around.

Many times, they help us come back to the present moment.

To look again.

To listen again.

To enjoy again.

Perhaps rediscovering the joy of teaching does not mean changing everything we do.

Perhaps it means reconnecting with what made us choose this profession in the first place.

Being available again for the encounter.

Allowing ourselves to be amazed by the small but meaningful moments that happen every day inside a classroom.

Because when I walk into my classroom and I am truly present, something comes back.

Curiosity.

Connection.

Joy.

That feeling of being exactly where I want to be.

And many times, I find myself thinking:

I’m lucky to be here.

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