Teaching isn’t a profession I chose; it is one that my mum chose. I never had an option. That was what was on the table. To acquire a bachelor’s degree, it was either through a teaching degree or just finishing school with a high school certificate.
I recall my mum telling me that if I wanted to get a university degree, it was either that or no university at all. At first, I thought it was negotiable, or we could find common ground around it. My two options had been psychology and law. Two weeks after taking classes in psychology, I changed my course to education. My mother would later explain that she couldn’t afford to pay for all of us as a single mother of five. My teaching degree was the cheapest and surest way of me getting employment. Her reasoning, at the time, wholly made sense because, as a firstborn daughter in an African household, society expects you to sacrifice a lot for your siblings.
As an adult, I am still salty. It’s taken me time to process those feelings of what could have been if I had been afforded the resources and studied something of my choosing. My two brothers went on to pursue the courses they desired. They knew what they wanted, went after it and achieved, sometimes I feel at my expense. I spoke with my therapist about it, who explained that my dreams weren’t as important as those of the boys, and that is not something you get over; that is something you learn to live with.
After graduating from university, I spent the first six months binge-watching TV and staying in bed. Now that I look back on it, it was a combination of exhaustion from schooling and the dread of walking into a classroom. At the start of my job hunting, I never applied to any school because Ugandan schools (missionary schools) typically have eighty kids in a homeroom. The pay is horrible and stuck in their ways. I was not doing that. I ended up with a job in e-commerce which I quit nine months later for a volunteer position in an EAL classroom.
In the past, I have attempted having this conversation with my mum, where I ended up in tears. She was steadfast in her belief that she knew what she was doing and that I should be thankful for her decisions. I have abandoned having that conversation and instead create my sunshine from henceforth because closure comes from within.
2021 is my tenth year as a teacher, and much as it was never my passion but an escape from poverty, I am learning to find my purpose; I am still not quite sure what it is, but I am on my journey to it. My students have been such an excellent opportunity for me to nurture my inner child and grow. One of my students asked whether I enjoyed teaching them, and it did take me back for a second. Some days I love what I do. Some days I don’t, but we keep moving.
