To teach a superstar

Have I told you that I live in the same house as my students?

It's just simply hilarious. Every morning they will see me dragging myself dozily to the bathroom or brushing my teeth noisily in the sink. Once in a while when I greet them good morning, I often drop saliva on my shirt. Other occasion when the day is sunny and the sky is clear, they will witness me hanging my granny-like underwear on the roof. If I forget to shut my room door properly they will spot a pile of books tangled with a pile of laundry (hey, you can use your sock as a bookmark, really). Sometimes they catch me red-handed talking to my goldfish or shaving my underarm or picking my nose. Happens. When I was a med student I always worshiped my teachers as if they were Hippocrates himself. Now I'm struggling to reserve my dignity.

During the job interview at my university, the interviewer once asked me, "Do you think you will make a good teacher?"
Are you joking? I thought to myself. I won't be just a good teacher, I will be a rock star. You know, the one that always gets thundering applause or, at least, standing ovation after each lecture.
"I will do my best," I said humbly (tips: this works for university interviews). When I said that, I must not have thought about sharing a bathroom, kitchen, garage and sink. It's quite hard to be a rock star once your students have seen your dirty laundry.

I can't be teacher at all times. At home, it's just me (meaning: a clumsy, unfashionable nerd who loves siesta and toilet jokes). I think there should be a line separating my personal and professional life. (Or perhaps I just need to create an alter ego like Lady Gaga?) Med students are not familiar with this separation. For decades the teachers were very well-respected, they were put on a pedestal. What if students find out that these people are actually mere human-beings?

I'm glad that my job description doesn't include having divine-like image. I have tried what I learn from CLIL (do scaffolding, engage student, elicit their prior knowledge, use pictures and lots of visual supports, involve their cognitive skills, and ask them to plan a bank job), so far it works quite well. I may not be a rock star (yet) but I do get an applause sometimes (when I insist). Not in the morning when I take my laundry out, of course.

PS. Dear friends, this blog is dying. We need more posts to keep it going. Please share your experiences and I'm sure we all love hearing them!