I Thought I Was Just Playing Teacher

Plot Twist: I Became the Teacher

There are some professions you choose deliberately. You research them, dream about them, tell everyone, “This is what I want to be when I grow up,” and then spend years working towards them. And then there are professions that somehow sneak up on you. Teaching was definitely one of those for me.

If you had told the younger me that one day I would be standing in front of a classroom, teaching children, writing lesson plans, explaining grammar, managing classrooms and somehow being trusted with the education of another human being, I would probably have looked at you and said, “You are lying. Please. Joke’s on you!” Because when I received my A-Level results, teaching was nowhere near the top of my list. Actually, let me rephrase that. Teaching wasn't even on the list.

Where I come from, there has always been this interesting hierarchy around professions. There are careers that families proudly announce at gatherings and careers that receive the enthusiastic, “Ahhh, that's good,” followed by a slightly less enthusiastic nod. Growing up in Zimbabwe and, more broadly, in many African communities, there was often a very particular picture of what success was supposed to look like. Doctor. Engineer. Lawyer. Accountant. Nurse. Anything that sounded prestigious, financially secure and guaranteed to make Auntie proudly introduce you to everyone at church.

Teaching? Hmm.

It wasn't necessarily viewed as the ultimate career aspiration. Of course, teachers were respected, but when children were asked what they wanted to become, somehow everyone was trying to save lives, build bridges, fly aeroplanes or become the next big thing in corporate Africa. And honestly, I wasn't any different.

I had dreams. I had plans. I had ideas about the kind of life I wanted. But standing in front of a classroom and saying, “Good morning, class,” was not part of the vision board.

Yet here I am.

A teacher.

Funny how life works.

The even funnier part is that when I look backwards now, I realise I may have been rehearsing for this career long before I even knew what I was doing.

As a child, I used to scribble on the walls at my grandfather's house. Yes, the walls. Let us just pause there and acknowledge the crime scene. I would create my little imaginary classroom, pretend to be the teacher and imagine children sitting in front of me listening attentively while I imparted my very important childhood wisdom. I didn't have a teaching degree. I didn't have a classroom. I didn't even have actual students. But apparently, I had a syllabus.

Looking back, I also remember my years as an Adventurer and Pathfinder leader in church. I loved working with children. I loved activities, games, stories, learning and simply being around young people. There was something about creating an environment where children could participate, discover something new and feel included that I genuinely enjoyed.

At the time, I didn't look at any of those things and think, “Ah yes, these are transferable skills that will one day lead me into education.” Nope. I was just living my life. Meanwhile, somewhere in the background, life was quietly putting together the pieces.

It is almost as if while I was busy trying to become everything else, a little version of me was already preparing to become a teacher.

And isn't that sometimes how purpose works? We are so busy looking for the big neon sign that says THIS IS YOUR PURPOSE, when sometimes purpose is hiding inside the things we naturally gravitate towards. The things we do without being asked. The things that make us lose track of time. The things we keep returning to even when we aren't consciously pursuing them.

For me, working with children was one of those things.

And then, somehow, I found myself in education.

Fast-forward to today and I am in Japan, teaching English and experiencing the wonderful, confusing, hilarious and occasionally chaotic world of education from a completely different cultural perspective. And because today is World Teachers' Day, I can't help but pause and think about this journey.

Because today isn't just about me. It is about the teacher who woke up at 5 a.m. to prepare for work. It is about the teacher who stayed after school because a child needed someone to talk to. It is about the preschool teacher changing nappies and celebrating a toddler's first proper sentence. It is about the teacher teaching a child how to hold a pencil, pronounce a word, tie their shoes, share with another child or finally master a skill they have been struggling with for weeks.

It is about the teacher who notices that the usually chatty child has suddenly become quiet. The teacher who remembers a student's favourite snack. The teacher who has explained the same concept seventeen different ways because apparently the eighteenth way is the one that finally makes sense.

And let us be honest, sometimes the teacher is also part educator, part counsellor, part referee, part detective, part event coordinator, part entertainer and occasionally part professional negotiator.

“Why are you fighting?”

“He started it.”

“No, SHE started it.”

“I didn't!”

“Okay. Everybody breathe.”

Teaching is a whole ministry sometimes.

And perhaps one of the biggest things I have come to appreciate about education is just how much teachers actually do. We talk about teachers teaching, but teaching is so much more than standing at the front of a classroom and delivering information.

Especially when we look at early childhood education.

A teacher might be one of the first adults outside a child's family to notice developmental milestones. They watch children develop their gross motor skills, fine motor skills, language, social skills, emotional regulation and cognitive abilities. They encourage them when they are frustrated. They celebrate the tiny victories that nobody else might notice.

A child holds a spoon properly for the first time. A child takes their first confident steps. A child finally says a new word. A child who was once terrified to speak begins answering questions. A child who struggled to make friends suddenly joins a group.

These might look like small things to someone walking past.

To a teacher?

Those are celebrations.

Teachers witness growth in real time.

And sometimes they are trusted with children for more waking hours than their parents actually get to spend with them during the week.

Think about that for a moment.

Parents work. Children go to school. Teachers are there. Parents are busy building families and careers. Teachers are there. Children have good days. Teachers are there. Children have terrible days. Teachers are still there.

And somewhere between multiplication tables, story time, lunch breaks, playground disputes, spelling tests, art projects, assemblies and “Please stop talking while I'm talking,” teachers become part of the fabric of a child's life.

They may not always realise how significant their presence is. But children remember teachers.

Years later, people might forget the exact lesson they learned, but they remember the teacher who made them feel capable. They remember the teacher who believed in them. They remember the teacher who encouraged them when they thought they couldn't do something. They remember the teacher who made learning fun. They remember the teacher who was kind when they needed kindness.

And sometimes, they remember the teacher who was terrifying. We all had that one. The teacher whose footsteps in the corridor were enough to make an entire classroom suddenly discover the ability to sit silently.

But even that is part of the strange beauty of education. Teachers leave fingerprints on people's lives in ways they may never fully see.

This is why, whenever someone asks me who I think should be paid more, my answer comes very quickly.

The teacher.

From the very beginning.

Because if we are honest, almost every profession begins somewhere with a teacher. Before there was the doctor, there was a teacher. Before there was the engineer, there was a teacher. Before there was the lawyer, there was a teacher. Before there was the accountant, the scientist, the architect, the entrepreneur, the pilot, the politician, the artist, the designer or the CEO, there was someone teaching them how to read, write, count, think, communicate and understand the world around them.

The teacher is often standing at the beginning of somebody else's success story.

And yet, teachers are sometimes expected to do an enormous job with limited resources, limited time and, in many places, limited compensation.

We can't keep telling people that children are the future while treating the people responsible for nurturing that future as an afterthought. If we genuinely care about the future, we have to care about educators. We have to value their time. We have to value their expertise. We have to support their wellbeing. We have to create environments where teachers can actually teach rather than constantly trying to survive the demands surrounding the profession.

Because teaching is not simply a job you clock into at 8 a.m. and leave at 4 p.m.

There are lessons being planned in people's heads while they are cooking dinner. There are students being thought about on the train home. There are papers being marked after hours. There are activities being prepared on weekends. There are conversations replayed in teachers' minds because they are wondering whether they handled a situation correctly.

And then, somehow, they return the next day and do it all again.

That deserves recognition.

So today, on World Teachers' Day, I want to say thank you.

To the teachers who taught me. To the educators I have worked alongside. To the teachers currently standing in classrooms across Zimbabwe, Japan and everywhere else in the world. To the early childhood educators changing nappies, wiping noses and celebrating developmental milestones. To the primary school teachers laying foundations. To secondary school teachers navigating teenagers who sometimes seem to have forgotten that adults are also human beings. To university lecturers and professors shaping future professionals. To special education teachers. To teaching assistants. To tutors. To every person who has ever patiently sat beside a child and said, “Let's try again.”

Thank you.

And to my fellow teachers, I hope you know that what you do matters.

Even when the paperwork is ridiculous. Even when the salary doesn't feel proportional to the responsibility. Even when the classroom is loud. Even when the lesson completely flops and you are standing there thinking, Well... that did not go according to the plan. Even when you are exhausted. Even when nobody says thank you.

Keep going.

Not because teachers should simply tolerate everything thrown at them, but because the work you do has meaning. You are contributing to people who will one day become somebody else's doctors, engineers, parents, artists, leaders, entrepreneurs, caregivers, innovators and teachers. You are helping shape people who will shape the world.

And perhaps that is what makes me laugh when I think about my younger self.

That little girl scribbling on her grandfather's walls, pretending she had a classroom full of children, had no idea that years later she would actually become the teacher. She thought she was playing.

Maybe she was.

Or maybe, in her own little way, she was already practising.

Sometimes we spend years chasing the life we think we want, only to discover that pieces of the life meant for us have been quietly following us all along.

I didn't set out to become a teacher. But somewhere between those imaginary classrooms, church activities, children, lesson plans and real-life classrooms, I found myself here.

And today, I wouldn't change the story.

Happy World Teachers' Day to every educator out there.

From one teacher to another: We see you. We appreciate you. We thank you. And yes, please keep your classroom management skills sharp because apparently children can sense fear. 

Here's to the teachers. The ones who teach. The ones who nurture. The ones who encourage. The ones who sometimes become counsellors, cheerleaders, referees and detectives before lunchtime. And the ones who may never fully realise just how many lives they are helping shape.

Happy World Teachers' Day. 

And to that little girl scribbling on Grandpa's walls...

Girl, you were onto something.