What the Teacher Learned
Through adventures in babysitting, volunteering at day camps, and hanging around with my little cousins, I have learned that there are many types of kids. Amelia Brock-Davis is in a class all her own. Amelia was eight years old when we first met; a bright, talkative, redheaded bundle of energy. And in one of life's little ironies, even though she was my student, I learned more from her than I would ever teach her.
I hadn't taught much horseback riding before I was asked to take Amelia, but my coach needed someone to work one on one with her, and hold on to her horse until she could ride alone. Looking back, I think the reason she fell to me was that no one else would take her. Warnings came at me from anyone and everyone at the barn who had crossed paths with her. Warnings along the lines of "Don't let her get away with anything", and "Be firm with her or she'll try to take advantage of you". I was new to the whole thing, so I took in all the information I could, and pretty soon I was dreading my looming half hour with this child who sounded as if she consorted with the devil. My fears were, to a degree, accurate. That first lesson, Amelia decided to test my limits with endless "I-used-to's", "why-can't-I's", and my personal favorite "But so-and-so always let me!". Miraculously, we got through that first half hour without killing each other, and after that it became easier. Once I learned what to expect from Amelia and she knew how I dealt with things, we settled into a routine that was repeated every Saturday morning for most of the summer.
As the summer went on and we continued to work as teacher and student, I noticed something. Amelia was improving! This devil-child that I had been told would do everything but listen to me was progressing! What was more, I had taught her many of the things she was now doing comfortably. It became more fun for me to watch her as she worked, knowing that she could do much of what she did because of me. Sure we still had our bad days, but now they were outnumbered by the good ones. And then the day came. I had talked to my coach, who had been keeping an eye on Amelia and I all summer and we agreed that Amelia didn't need me to lead her around anymore. The next lesson, after I took my student out for her warm-up, I let go of her horse and she struck out on her own. As she trotted around the ring by herself, my coach (who had been watching) asked, "How do you feel Amelia?" and for the first time since I had known her, Amelia was speechless. She was smiling too hard to answer.
That smile, and the whole experience of teaching Amelia, taught me many things that I would not have otherwise learned. It taught me that you should never judge a person through other people's experiences with them. I learned that you get the most satisfaction when you see results that have been achieved through your own hard work and perseverance. Most importantly, I learned that seeing a smile on someone's face that you helped to put there gives one of the most incredible feelings you'll ever have. Some people that you can learn from come when you least expect them. My teacher came as my student.
Through adventures in babysitting, volunteering at day camps, and hanging around with my little cousins, I have learned that there are many types of kids. Amelia Brock-Davis is in a class all her own. Amelia was eight years old when we first met; a bright, talkative, redheaded bundle of energy. And in one of life's little ironies, even though she was my student, I learned more from her than I would ever teach her.
I hadn't taught much horseback riding before I was asked to take Amelia, but my coach needed someone to work one on one with her, and hold on to her horse until she could ride alone. Looking back, I think the reason she fell to me was that no one else would take her. Warnings came at me from anyone and everyone at the barn who had crossed paths with her. Warnings along the lines of "Don't let her get away with anything", and "Be firm with her or she'll try to take advantage of you". I was new to the whole thing, so I took in all the information I could, and pretty soon I was dreading my looming half hour with this child who sounded as if she consorted with the devil. My fears were, to a degree, accurate. That first lesson, Amelia decided to test my limits with endless "I-used-to's", "why-can't-I's", and my personal favorite "But so-and-so always let me!". Miraculously, we got through that first half hour without killing each other, and after that it became easier. Once I learned what to expect from Amelia and she knew how I dealt with things, we settled into a routine that was repeated every Saturday morning for most of the summer.
As the summer went on and we continued to work as teacher and student, I noticed something. Amelia was improving! This devil-child that I had been told would do everything but listen to me was progressing! What was more, I had taught her many of the things she was now doing comfortably. It became more fun for me to watch her as she worked, knowing that she could do much of what she did because of me. Sure we still had our bad days, but now they were outnumbered by the good ones. And then the day came. I had talked to my coach, who had been keeping an eye on Amelia and I all summer and we agreed that Amelia didn't need me to lead her around anymore. The next lesson, after I took my student out for her warm-up, I let go of her horse and she struck out on her own. As she trotted around the ring by herself, my coach (who had been watching) asked, "How do you feel Amelia?" and for the first time since I had known her, Amelia was speechless. She was smiling too hard to answer.
That smile, and the whole experience of teaching Amelia, taught me many things that I would not have otherwise learned. It taught me that you should never judge a person through other people's experiences with them. I learned that you get the most satisfaction when you see results that have been achieved through your own hard work and perseverance. Most importantly, I learned that seeing a smile on someone's face that you helped to put there gives one of the most incredible feelings you'll ever have. Some people that you can learn from come when you least expect them. My teacher came as my student.