My Crazy, Wonderful Life Teaching Reading
Another day teaching reading is over. Like usual, it was a rollercoaster—wild, draining, yet super satisfying. Showing adults and kids how to read? It takes a lot. You need to be patient, flexible, and have tons of energy. Some days, it feels like wrangling cats, but those aha! moments make it all worthwhile.
Morning Mayhem
Class starts with everyone showing up at different times. Some rush in, saying sorry for being late. Others quietly sit down, flipping through their books, looking both determined and a bit scared. Each person is at a different spot—some are just learning what sounds letters make, while others fight with simple sentences. Trying to help everyone at once is like conducting an orchestra where everyone’s playing a different tune.
I remember a point when two people needed me at the same time—one was stuck on the ch sound in chair, while another mixed up b and d. And in the corner, a shy teen didn't want to read out loud, her hands shaking as she pointed at the words. The room buzzed with whispers, flipping pages, and a frustrated sigh now and then. Was it crazy? For sure. But in the middle of it, there was a strange harmony—the sound of people pushing themselves to learn.
Those Aha! Moments
Then, there were sparks of magic. The teen who was too nervous to talk finally read a sentence without messing up. Her face lit up, and the class cheered. Another person, a middle-aged man who struggled to mix sounds for weeks, suddenly read a whole paragraph smoothly. He looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe he’d done it.
These moments—the look of realization that they can actually do this—are what make the chaos worth it. There’s nothing like seeing someone’s confidence grow right before your eyes. The annoyance of constant mistakes just disappears when you see that spark of understanding.
Tired, but Happy
By the end of class, my voice was shot, my brain was spinning from switching between different ways to teach, and my coffee was cold. But as people packed up, many stayed to ask things or tell me about small wins. One woman said she read a street sign on her own for the first time. A young boy happily said he finished his first little book.
Teaching reading isn’t just about letters and words—it’s about opening doors. For some, it’s a door to jobs that are better, for others, it’s the simple joy of reading to a child before bed. Class might be wild, and progress slow, but the reward? It’s huge.
As I went home, tired but smiling, I remembered why I do this: because every person struggling to read today could be confident tomorrow. And that’s worth every crazy moment.
Would I trade it for something easier? Never.
