{Entry for the Humanities Impression Contest - Faculty of Management Science} The first class session of a young lecturer

Perhaps my path to a career was different, as the saying goes, "what you hate, fate gives you." I didn't choose to study education, even though many in my family, especially on my mother's side, are quite successful in the teaching profession, because I didn't like the idea of ​​being a teacher. The image of teaching, from elementary, middle, and high school, could be summed up in one word: "boring." "Boring" here refers to the nature of the work: going to class – lecturing – grading papers – going to class – lecturing – grading papers… Just thinking about it made me feel completely unsuitable for it. I prefer experimentation, freedom, and changing environments. I dream of the glamour and constant change in businesses, so I chose to study a field that I felt met with the necessary and sufficient conditions: "nothing related to education" and "dynamic and mobile." Even when I was in college, I scoffed at the blunt remark of a classmate nicknamed "the one with the fifth and a half sense":"Later on, you should get a stable job like being a teacher."It's true that "life isn't a dream," as I didn't choose my profession; my profession chose me. After several twists and turns in life, and whether by chance or design, I had the opportunity to enter university. My friends were surprised, my family was astonished, and I honestly "never thought it would happen."

The young lecturer's first class session.

My first teaching experience began when I assisted Professor Vu Cao Dam in a specialized class for students in the year immediately following mine. The night before, I had terrible trouble sleeping. My mind raced with imagined scenarios of that first day. I was scared. I was worried. I was nervous. But I was also excited for this first "introduction." The next day, things weren't as I expected. When I entered the classroom—the same classroom I'd been familiar with since my student days—I wasn't there to answer questions, but in a completely different role and with a different responsibility. Standing before the students, I felt like a different person: more composed and mature, but also a little less confident. I still feel inexperienced and naive, filled with countless fears: fear of not being capable enough to convey the message, to answer the students' challenging questions, fear that the lesson wouldn't be engaging enough, that the students wouldn't love the subject I teach... My first time standing in front of a lecture hall was when the professor asked us to guide the class through a discussion exercise. Those moments standing on the podium were filled with awkwardness and nervousness because it was my first time in front of so many students. I was very anxious, and sometimes I forgot what I intended to say, even the discussion script I had initially planned. Looking into the students' eyes, I could clearly see their skepticism: "She's too young, I wonder if she has enough experience to teach us?" However, after the initial few minutes of awkwardness for both teacher and students, the class progressed smoothly with the students' attentiveness and active participation, the teacher's harmonious interaction with the students, and the professor's lecture, along with my slightly hesitant exchanges with the students. Yet, before that, in my mind, I thought that being a lecturer standing on the podium meant showing authority, controlling the class, and appearing cold and aloof so that the students would be afraid, would study, and wouldn't talk or make noise because they were young and easily bullied.

After class, the professor sat down with me and discussed the strengths and weaknesses of a "teacher" in the classroom: from the way of addressing students, to posture, how to lead discussions and conclude, how to "put out fires" during lectures... He emphasized that everything from voice to gestures, attitude, and facial expressions is very important for a lecturer. And little by little, I matured. He also told me about his first day teaching at the Polytechnic University about 50 years ago, a day he taught students from a year after his. The emotions he experienced were similar to mine now. My professors were also masters of psychology, as I heard many stories about their first day in the lecture hall. Professor Dao Thanh Truong recounted his first time teaching, with a similar situation: arriving in the lecture hall unexpectedly and without prior knowledge. Perhaps that first day wasn't just memorable for me; it was always so impressive and full of emotion for all the teachers.

Over time, lecture halls have also undergone many changes, becoming more modern, intelligent, and convenient: air conditioning, pull-out whiteboards with projection screens, etc. But no matter how technology changes, one thing always remains: the enthusiasm, focus, passion, and anxieties about life and the future of the students who are reaching adulthood. And, I see myself from almost 10 years ago in them.

Generations of instructors in one lecture hall

Speaking of the lecture hall, I want to share something unique and rare here in the Faculty of Management Science: four generations share the same lecture hall. It sounds unbelievable at first, but it's actually true. I should have drawn a diagram to make it easier to visualize, but adding one to a reflection like this would be a bit inappropriate. Therefore, I'll give an example from my own experience: Professor Vu Cao Dam is Professor Dao Thanh Truong's teacher, Professor Dao Thanh Truong is the class advisor of Ms. Vu Cam Thanh, and Ms. Vu Cam Thanh is my academic advisor. Each generation succeeds the other, with one passing on the passion for the profession to the next. I suddenly remembered Nguyen Duy's poem "Vietnamese Bamboo," and I see the reflection of my teachers and myself in it.

"Young bamboo shoots are tender shoots.

It has taken on the straight, round shape of bamboo.

Years pass by, months pass by,

There's nothing strange about old bamboo giving way to new shoots.

In the future,

In the future,

In the future...

"The land remains green with bamboo, its color forever green."

(Excerpt from "Vietnamese Bamboo" - Nguyen Duy, White Sand, People's Army Publishing House, 1973)

Yes. When it comes to the lecture hall and the teaching profession, my feelings can be summed up in two words: "Responsibility" and "Pride." For the "green land to remain forever green with bamboo," it requires the dedication, tolerance, nurturing, and sacrifice of generations of "old bamboo" and "mature bamboo," as well as the efforts and breakthroughs of the "young shoots." If you are destined to be in this profession, you must have the heart to preserve it.