Looking back, I never imagined that a fascination with Bruce Lee, Asian cuisine, and Korean pop music would eventually lead me to a career teaching English in China.
Life has a peculiar way of connecting experiences that initially seem completely unrelated.
I’ve made mistakes.
I’ve experienced disappointments.
I’ve watched carefully constructed plans fall apart.
I’ve changed jobs, changed cities, and navigated an extraordinary period of global uncertainty.
I’ve also met wonderful people, discovered unexpected opportunities, and developed relationships with students that have made the challenges worthwhile.
Somewhere along the way, I discovered something about myself.
I genuinely enjoy teaching children.
Not simply delivering lessons or following a curriculum but witnessing those moments when something finally makes sense to a young learner.
The moment confusion becomes understanding.
The moment hesitation becomes confidence.
The moment a child who once avoided speaking English decides to approach me and start a conversation.
I’ve grown to cherish primary education.
I take pride in my students’ achievements, and I find genuine satisfaction in knowing that I’ve played some part in their development.
I’m also proud of myself.
Proud that I remained in a foreign country during a global health crisis.
Proud that I made difficult decisions when circumstances demanded them.
Proud that I faced uncertainty rather than allowing it to determine my future.
And proud that, despite the setbacks, I continued learning.
Because that’s another thing this journey has taught me.
Being a teacher doesn’t mean you’ve finished being a student.
In many ways, I think I’m still that curious boy who wanted to understand unfamiliar languages, practise eating peas with chopsticks, and explore cultures beyond the world he knew.
Only now, I’ve found a way to share that curiosity with others.
And Building Young Writers is another expression of it.
A project born from personal experience, classroom observations, and the belief that students should have opportunities to discover what they’re capable of achieving through practice.
Perhaps one day, one of my students will find themselves in a foreign country, speaking a language they once believed was beyond their abilities.
Perhaps they’ll remember a sentence they wrote in class.
Or a conversation with their teacher.
Or a simple question about how football players become good at football.
Who knows?
As for me, change and challenges seem to have become recurring themes in my life.
And now, as I find myself approaching yet another professional crossroads, I can’t help wondering what comes next.
Another city?
Another school?
Another unexpected adventure?
What will the next chapter bring?
I haven’t the faintest idea.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that an unexpected ending can sometimes be the beginning of a much better story.
And I’m not finished writing mine.