What inspired you to start teaching English?
What inspired me to become a teacher was, in many ways, my complicated relationship with education growing up. As a child, I deeply loved language, stories, and learning, but I grew up in an educational environment where learning often felt tied to fear, pressure, and silence rather than curiosity and self-expression. Over time, that experience made me realize how powerful a teacher can be. Not only in shaping a student’s education, but also their confidence, identity, and sense of belonging.
I became the kind of teacher I once needed myself. I wanted to create a classroom where students feel safe enough to ask questions, make mistakes, think freely, and discover their own voices. Teaching English, especially, feels deeply meaningful to me because language can open doors, restore confidence, and connect people to the world and to themselves.
For me, teaching is not just about grammar or vocabulary. It is about humanity, compassion, and helping students believe that their voices matter.
What’s one activity or topic your students always love?
I’m still new to the Tutorium, so I’m excitedly discovering what activities my current students enjoy most. But in a previous class, one tradition my students absolutely loved was our Thursday book club. We would read a novel together over time, and once we finished, we’d celebrate by watching the film adaptation as a class.
My students would come prepared with popcorn and snacks, and the classroom would transform into this warm, joyful little community space. After the movie, we would discuss the differences between the author’s perspective and the director’s interpretation, and those conversations were always thoughtful, lively, and full of personality.
It became more than just an activity, it was something students genuinely looked forward to, a moment where literature felt alive, shared, and personal.
How do you keep your classes lively and engaging?
I believe energy is contagious in a classroom. I move around constantly, walk between students, interact closely with them, and create an environment that feels active rather than rigid or distant. I encourage my students to speak, collaborate, ask questions, and laugh. Sometimes it’s the smallest moments, a joke, a change in tone, a shared laugh, that make students feel comfortable enough to participate fully.
I’m a strong believer in learner-centered teaching. I see myself as a guide rather than the center of the classroom. My students are the ones thinking, discussing, exploring, and leading conversations. When students feel genuinely involved in their own learning, the classroom naturally becomes more engaging, dynamic, and alive.
What advice would you give to new teachers?
Give yourself permission to grow slowly. Teaching is beautiful, but it can also be overwhelming at times, especially in the beginning. It’s okay to have doubts, make mistakes, or feel uncertain. Every teacher starts somewhere.
The most important thing is to remain curious and willing to learn. Ask questions, seek guidance from experienced educators, revisit books and research, and continue reflecting on your practice. Growth in teaching never really ends.
Most importantly, don’t let frustration harden you. Let it push you to become more compassionate, more creative, and more understanding. Students may not remember every lesson you teach, but they will always remember how you made them feel.
If you could teach anywhere in the world, where would it be?
A refugee camp.
Much of my work and passion has centered around people who have experienced displacement, conflict, and interrupted education. One of the greatest losses many displaced individuals experience is not only losing their homes, but also losing access to learning, stability, and opportunity.
If I could teach anywhere, I would want to be in a place where education is hardest to access but needed most. I know what it means to see education disrupted by conflict and uncertainty, and I understand how deeply people hold onto learning as a source of hope and dignity.
If we cannot immediately restore everything people have lost, the least we can do is help them continue learning, dreaming, and building a future for themselves. Education can become a form of healing, resilience, and survival, and I would be honored to be part of that journey.