Why Ask Why?

I can see the humor in it now. Ten years ago when I was interviewing for this gig, I really believed that I knew what I was talking about when I sat down across the table from the head of the teaching intern program. I had taken the CBEST and passed with flying colors. I had lived through the MSAT without any additional preparation and managed to squeak by, and was busy finishing my junior college class in public speaking. I had met the requirements. Then this rather dour old coot leans across his desk and looks at me for a moment before asking, "And just why do you want to be a teacher?"
Why? There would be no more objective questions, now I had landed squarely in the land of the subjective. I fought off the urge to run screaming from the room and told him what I imagined was a clever answer: "Well, I've always been good with kids."
The old coot sat back in his chair. "My sister is good with kids. That doesn't make her a teacher." I worked to regain my composure, but I could feel my ears turning red and my confidence disappearing. I didn't have words to explain my career motivation - or lack thereof.
A lot of people have asked me that question since then, and I have become more relaxed and refined in my response. I can wax rhapsodic about giving back to my community, and reaching those kids most in need, but I never fully recovered from that punch in the guts ten years ago. I thought about it again as I walked along with my class on a field trip that took us on a hike in the hills of Oakland. One of the parents who came with us started to look a little fried around the edges after lunch. "I don't know how you guys do it. All these kids, day after day." I knew exactly how he felt, but I also knew the answer: "Because I'm a teacher."