I'm going to college right now to be an English teacher. It's not what I want to do with my life, I want to become a writer, but I realize that the chances of that are slim, and, at the least, I need to have something to do until I get published. Besides, Stephen King and Dean Koontz were both English teachers before they made it big.
My choice to pursue English education wasn't really passion, it just seemed to be the most logical choice. After all, I was good at English, so the choices of field seemed limited. Journalism wasn't my cup of tea when I had it in high school (then again, that might have been because I was never given any of the good stories. Only headlines like “Math Club Wins State Competition”...whoo...) and I didn't see any other jobs except writing and being an English teacher.
Being a teacher was never a calling. I never watched my teachers and thought, man, I wish I were doing that. But I thought it was the best career for my talents.
The ironic thing is, I hate public speaking, and just trying to do my Biology final presentation almost made me have an asthma attack. I got all panicky, I felt hot and cold at the same time, and when I started speaking, my face turned bright red. It always does. When I thought about that the other day, I wondered, Why am I even doing this? This job is public speaking everyday! I tried not to think about it, I tried not to dwell on the fact that I might be totally ruining my chance to get a good job after this. I feared I was wasting my time and money.
Today I had my second class of Classroom Communications and Public Speaking for Teachers.
I think I'll be okay, now.