Teaching is like Angband

This comparison came to me not long ago and ever since I've been thinking about the parallels. There are more of them than I would have expected actually.

The similarity that originally struck me was the learning curve. When I first began playing Angband, it was such a slow and painful process. Ever minute or so, I had to ask someone how to do something. I might not have continued playing the game if I wasn't playing it in the same room as several other Angband enthusiasts that I could routinely ask for help. But everyone around me was playing it and they seemed to be having fun, so I stuck with it and grappled with all the different commands I had to learn (I want to drink... what do I do? Quaff???). Learning all the commands and getting to be fluid with them was actually a pretty slow process as I remember. In fact, it was so slow and subtle that I didn't even realize when I stopped pausing every few seconds to ask someone what I should do. And questions still came up from time to time as the game progressed (What's elvenkind?), but the mechanics of the game started to become much more automated for me. I didn't have to think about them so much (I need to drink? q. Move on.). I wasn't even aware how natural it had gotten until it hit me all of a sudden. It was about the same time that I realized I was having fun.

I had that same surprising realization recently with teaching. I can't think of any other time I've had this same exact feeling. It's sort of a surprised "Wait... I like this?" That's not too surprising actually. Very rarely do we persist in something that's not fun for an extended period of time. Things with a steep learning curve spend a lot of time being just not fun. They're initially hard, strenuous, frustrating, and depressing. I can't say I got too depressed over Angband (though losing a character you've worked on for days just because you stopped paying attention for a second is really annoying), but teaching has been a strain on me. There have been times when I've wallowed for hours after class because I had a really bad day. At least once this semester (if not more), I seriously considered quitting and trying something less painful. The job was so hard and, more often than not, not particularly rewarding. Often you get smacked on your ass by a student who wants to be difficult just because they can, or an angry parent will start to yell at you because everything is not perfect for their child. Or worse yet, you just confuse everyone and then you have to go through the painful process of grading a bunch of tests that make everyone's grades drop. Sometimes the test is the first indication I have that something is wrong, and by then it's too late. That's a really frustrating situation to be in.

There are a lot of frustrating situations. Teaching is just one long string of frustrating situations. I was doing it because it was something really important and I thought I could make a difference, but it was a constant struggle.

Then, almost imperceptibly, I struggled a little less. Of course, I still flopped quite heartily quite often. I flopped enough that I don't think I realized I was struggling less.

Then, after enough time spent flopping and struggling and messing up, a day goes smoothly. You feel good about a day well done.

Then you flop the next day and forget all about it.

Then another smooth day goes by. Then, slowly yet surely, the good days start to outnumber the flops. You start to make predictions about how certain things will go. You start asking students questions that don't confuse them as much. You get a sense for how long certain activities will take. You get the knack of designing a worksheet in 10 minutes. Then you start to get the knack of making that worksheet accomplish something good.

Then you suddenly realize it. You don't realize, "oh I'm good at this." That's not what I realized about Angband. It wouldn't have been true either. I couldn't legitimately get past level 40 or 50 as I recall. The real realization you come across is, "Oh! That was fun!" There is a sense of accomplishment about actually knowing how to maneuver yourself through an ASCII world or a classroom of teenagers, but that in itself isn't fun. It's satisfying certainly, and maybe that can give a feeling of fun, but I'm not sure it's quite the same. I actually enjoyed class today. I'm not going to say that's never happened before, but today was one of the first days when it really struck me, when I realized with a start that what had been a chore and a difficult yet necessary job in my mind for so long actually left me feeling happy. That doesn't happen often, in part because I'm a strict self critic when it comes to teaching and in part because I'm so used to being in the top 10% of things I do that being considerably worse than that is really frustrating.

But today I felt went really well. And it felt like I had something to do with it going well. I made good choices. I asked the right questions. I set up the right problems for them to work on. The kids weren't just having a good day, though that may have also been true. It went well and it was more than just luck. I did things right, and I got to see the benefits of that.

And the benefits are good. :D