Rewriting My Teaching Story Through the Lens of a B.Ed
Written by Ms. Durriya
When I began my B.Ed journey, I carried with me years of teaching experience, a well-worn toolkit of strategies, and the confidence that comes from navigating countless classroom challenges. I assumed the degree would simply give a theoretical framework to what I was
already doing. I was wrong—in the best possible way.
The B.Ed was not just an academic milestone; it was a mirror. It reflected back my strengths, but also the blind spots I didn’t know existed. It challenged me to unlearn habits formed out of convenience and replace them with practices grounded in research, empathy, and intentionality.
Before the B.Ed, much of my teaching was driven by intuition and trial-and-error. While
experience gave me instincts, the degree helped me refine them through pedagogy. Learning
about educational psychology, differentiated instruction, and Bloom’s taxonomy shifted my
approach from what works to why it works. Suddenly, lesson planning wasn’t just about
“covering the syllabus”—it was about designing learning experiences that met students at their level and moved them forward meaningfully.
In my earlier years, reflection often came in fragments—quiet thoughts after a challenging
lesson, mental notes about what to improve next time. The B.Ed taught me structured reflective practice. I began documenting, analyzing, and questioning my choices, using tools like Gibbs’
Reflective Cycle. This was not about self-criticism; it was about evolving. The more I reflected,
the more I noticed patterns—both in my teaching and my students’ learning.
Having taught for many years, I prided myself on “control” in the classroom. But my B.Ed reframed management as community building. I learned strategies rooted in positive
reinforcement, restorative practices, and student voice. It wasn’t about compliance; it was about ownership. When students feel valued, discipline becomes less about correction and more about connection.
Educational theory sometimes gets dismissed as “idealistic.” Yet, my experience showed me
that when theory is adapted—not blindly applied—it can transform practice. For instance,
Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development is not just a concept from a textbook; it became a
lens through which I now scaffold tasks, ensuring each learner is appropriately challenged
without being overwhelmed. Perhaps the greatest transformation was personal. The B.Ed reignited my passion for teaching. It reminded me that education is not static—it is a living, breathing process of growth, for both the learner and the teacher. I returned to my classroom not just with new strategies, but with a renewed belief that every day is an opportunity to make learning more meaningful.
Experience gave me wisdom. The B.Ed gave me depth. Together, they have made me not only
a more capable teacher, but a more conscious one. My journey from experience to education
was not about replacing what I knew—it was about refining it, deepening it, and ensuring that my teaching is as purposeful as it is practical.