I'm going to be a teacher

How I (finally) got accepted into teacher studies and realized this has been my dream for the past 25 years.

I didn’t know I wanted to become a teacher until March 27th, when I received the news that I’d been accepted into teacher studies.

Around the same time last year, it had been a firm no. I would’ve needed 19 points to get in, but I only had 14. This time, I had 19— and guess how many would have been enough? Fourteen.

Such is life.

I wasn’t dissappointed last year. I knew getting in with 14 points was nearly impossible, and I had so much wonderful work on my plate that I didn’t mind the no at all.

Picking admission points as a hobby

I got the idea of teacher studies in spring 2023 when I decided I needed a B-plan.

My business had been my sole source of income for more than a decade, and I wanted to change course. Times were tough. I asked myself: If I had to go job hunting, what would I actually want to do? Teaching made it to the finals every time.

I didn’t want to take a whole year off to study full-time, so I started browsing my options. I could do the studies alongside work, but for that, I’d need nearly 20 admission points. At this point, I only had my Master’s degree—four points.

For a moment, the task seemed impossible. But then I learned that by completing the basic studies in educational sciences, I could get 10 points¹.

Fourteen points. A good start, but not enough. What next?

Let’s do another degree, I thought. That sounds fun (not really).

And that’s what I did. A basic degree in entrepreneurship would give me four more points.

There had been years when 18 would’ve been enough to get in, but I wanted to play it safe. Further education would give me even more points, so I decided to take a course in special education and a free MOOC course called… Me and my dog.

Yes, I paid 40 euros to have it added to my database. Yes, I am ashamed of myself.

Teaching as a way of living

While completing these studies and collecting points, I realized how teaching has been present in everything I do.

I’ve always loved teaching: thinking about the sessions, how to start, what would make a great activity, which tasks we’d do, and how to make it interesting for everyone.

From working as a substitute teacher in multiple schools to being a youth worker during my Uni years, from running photography workshops to mentoring dozens of professionals, from starting a podcast to guiding creative careers—teaching has always been there.

I love it, and maybe I should’ve taken the hint.

But I never thought I wanted to be a teacher. Not the kind who goes to class every day, has students, and corrects exams. I just love good pedagogy, figuring it out together.

When I realized how much teaching I’d already done, I knew I’d benefit from a deeper understanding of it.

But then… time passed.

It was nearly impossible to find suitable images for this post, so I’ll share some old favorites of Finnish frost. 🥶 Frost is one of my favorite things to photograph.

Second attempt and problems with the dog course

When January came and the application period opened again, I wasn’t sure I’d go through with it. Over cappuccinos, I told my friend Elina I didn’t think I’d apply. I was too content with how my jobs had aligned.

Elina was firm. Of course you’ll apply. You did an entire degree for this.

(Yeah, I did, didn’t I?)

So, two days before the deadline, I started gathering my application materials. And, of course (of course!) there was an issue with course credits.

Something was missing. And by something I mean the dog course.

I could hear the universe laughing at me. Go on, say it out loud. Send that email asking for the dog course you took in 45 minutes to be officially added to the system.

And I sent it.

In that moment I knew, if I didn’t get in this time, I’d just keep going. More courses², more credits, third attempt.

Callunas are underrated. Look at that beauty.

I needed to do this for myself

I don’t see myself applying for teacher jobs anytime soon³, but good pedagogy skills never killed anyone.

This is my number one regret from my university years: Why didn’t I apply for pedagogical studies when it would have been so easy? It would’ve taken just one more year.

First, I didn’t think I’d need the qualification. I never saw myself as a high school teacher, and honestly, that was the main goal of those studies. But at the time, I couldn’t grasp the bigger picture of how pedagogical skills could impact my work.

Looking back, I realize that if I’d taken those studies, I might have approached my business differently. Perhaps I would’ve gone all in on running an education business or even combined teaching with my own creative work. Or maybe there wouldn’t even have been a business?

It’s clear to me now that I missed out on opportunities that could have aligned more closely with my interests. If I had embraced that side of me earlier, I wonder if I might have felt more fulfilled in my work.

But I was afraid of failure.

I was convinced the application game was too hard to win, so it felt easier not to play at all. I didn’t apply for the studies then, because I felt like it would be a competition against my own peers, those who actually wanted to teach in schools.

In a way, I’ve always seen myself as an underachiever⁴, someone who held back because I didn’t believe I could truly measure up.

This must be one of my all-time favorite frosties.

Don’t fit into a box

Since leaving my day job at the beginning of 2012, I’ve thought a lot about boxes. I don’t fit into one, and chances are, you don’t either.

But in 2010s, it was cool to be just one thing. The creative community was full of individuals side-hustling, dreaming of running a full-time creative business. When I took the leap, it felt like I had made it, like I’d achieved something grand. But then the dream became reality, and none of these past 13 years have been particularly easy.

If I could give my 27-year-old self one piece of advice, it would be this: It’s okay to do many things. You’re not less of a photographer, writer, or creative just because you have a day job. In fact, you’ll have a better chance of succeeding as a creative if you’re not constantly stressing about money.⁵

Let’s do many things

I wish I’d done more things. Used my knowledge and skills more widely. Positioning myself as just a photographer has always felt limiting. Whenever I’ve been introduced as a photographer, I’ve wanted to add BUT I’M ALSO SO MUCH MORE.

We can be many things at once. In fact, I’d say it’s the norm for creatives. Almost every one of my mentees is bursting at the seams with ideas and talents. We don’t fit into boxes.

That’s why these past five years of doing many things have felt so good. I’ve mixed communication gigs with photography and writing and I’ve felt like a better, more fulfilled person because of it. And that’s why I’m ready for the next challenge: I’m going to be a teacher.

On the night of March 27th, we drank a cheap but surprisingly decent⁶ non-alcoholic sparkling wine from Lidl and watched an episode of White Lotus. I couldn’t believe my luck my efforts working for the admission points had actually paid off. And by efforts, I definitely mean the dog course, too.

What lies ahead in the future, I don’t know. But I’m moving forward, learning that it’s never too late, and hoping I’ll encounter more people along the way who ask me to walk beside them.

Ah, the tones and texture.

1. These were fairly easy studies I completed in the fall of 2023. I even enjoyed the group assignments, which is rare for me.

2. Did I tell you about the Me and my cat course already?

3. It would mean I’d have to leave the house every day, and I’m not good with that.

4. I remember running through thick snow alongside my childhood friend Siru while she took part in a kids’ cross-country skiing competition. Uphill, downhill, sticks and bushes. When we crossed the finish line, the organizer told me that maybe next time I’d join the race on skis.

5. In a small market like Finland, it’s important to understand that very few professionals can establish a thriving business. There just isn’t enough work for hundreds of photographers, for example.

6. It reminds me of Gancia Asti. Distantly, but still (or sparkling, ha).