Finding your voice as a new teacher

It all looked so easy, so natural, before you became a T’ai Chi Chih teacher. Your teacher would move and talk, make corrections. Perhaps even a joke or two would flow out with apparent ease. Now you’re going to be the one in front of the room, and all you can think is, “My God, I can’t even chew gum and walk; how am I going to pull this off?”

The short answer is: the same way you learned. You learn to teach by being open and humble, and by allowing the T’ai Chi Chih to show you how to teach the T’ai Chi Chih.

When you received your accreditation, it didn’t mean that you automatically knew how to teach; rather, it signified that you have what it takes to now begin the process of becoming a teacher. And that process gets underway—terrifying as it may seem—by actually jumping in, rustling up a class or two, stepping in front of the lovely students and saying, “Hi, I’m Jane Johnson, your accredited T’ai Chi Chih instructor.”

All of this may appear self-evident, but it surely wasn’t to me when I began teaching a few years ago. When I graduated from teacher training, I thought I was supposed to know what I was doing. Indeed, on a good day, I did feel fairly confident on the nuts and bolts of the practice. But as to the actual process of teaching—well, I was a babe in the woods. Only when I realized that this sense of incompetence was entirely OKAY and normal was I able to open up to and embrace this new adventure of becoming a teacher.

For me as a newly-minted teacher, the biggest challenge was what to say to the class—how much, how little, when to speak, how and when to make corrections. These questions loomed before me like a mountain. I began to scale that mountain when I understood that in the practice of TCC we confront a natural reality. If we speak to the class falsely, from our heads and not from our whole being, it is the same as moving with tension, without flow.

For the new student, the precise accuracy of the movement is dwarfed in importance by how he or she moves. The detail and refinement comes later; at the early stages the key to learning is simply to experience flowing softly and continuously, without tension or effort.

So too for the new teacher. What you say is far less important than how you say it. Are you speaking honestly, directly? Is the teh (the inner sincerity) coming through? The truth is, and this may bring some comfort, it isn’t that crucial what you say anyway. Though the information you convey verbally is certainly an important aspect of the teaching process, the students are learning primarily by watching and doing. So why stress over it?

My sense is that every new teacher needs to discover his or her own voice in front of the room. It’s natural, when we begin as a teacher, to adopt the style of our own teacher. That’s appropriate and helpful; we all need role models. But ultimately, the teaching of the practice must become our own. To be successful, your approach to this magnificent endeavor must become firmly grounded in your own character and sensibility.

This may seem paradoxical. The practice is about getting out of the way, about releasing ego and control. How can it help to bring your personality into play? Well, the truth is that all of who you are is revealed anyway, no matter how hard you try to cloak it in your version of what a TCC teacher is supposed to look and act like. Think of your personality as a gift, the vehicle in which the universal spirit is being expressed. If you hold that back from your students you’re actually ripping them off.

Don’t take yourself too seriously. Experiment with various approaches. Try talking a lot, a little, while you move or only between movements. See what works; see what feels right.

I’ve been at this now for a couple of years, and I don’t consider myself a natural. I still have a difficult time diagnosing a student’s mistakes and making the best suggestions for improvements. But I don’t fret about it; I’ve given myself a lifetime to grow as a teacher. I try to bring a seriousness of intent and a diligent attitude to class, but I always do my best to keep the atmosphere relaxed and fun. A class without some laughter is lacking in my view. That might be my personality talking, but that’s the point.

If in the early stages of teaching you do become discouraged, here’s your ace in the hole. You were accredited. Ed, or one of the other teacher trainers handed you that certificate, and they don’t do that lightly. You do have what it takes. T’ai Chi Chih is a gift. Share it with the world!