Annual song and dance

I've done this many times over the years, but each time the day is about to descend on me, I become a bundle of nerves.

Tomorrow's the day. The day when my two big bosses will be observing my lesson, and giving me an appraisal on my teaching ability. I haven't prepared my materials yet. I should be doing it now. But I'm blogging instead because I need to get the nerves out of my system.

It's not like I will lose my job if my lesson didn't go well. But if it didn't go well, my fragile self-esteem will take a beating.

I wonder if doctors and lawyers get observed by their superiors on a yearly basis. And even if they did, I wonder if it's fair to compare their observation with a lesson observation.

The students know the routine by now. Some will cooperate with you. Some will take the opportunity to display their expressive skills before their long-awaited captive audience. At all events, a lesson observation is a most contrived, unnatural affair. You don't get to see a teacher's real teaching ability. What you see is a show, put up for the purpose of being observed and appraised, and the students put on masks, and either behave exceedingly well, or nightmarishly bad. It's an atypical lesson. Both teacher and students heave a sigh of relief when it's over. The actors bow out of stage, glad to be able to get back to a normal life as it should be.