At some point when you're a child, you decide what you want to do when you grow up. For me, I wanted to me a marine biologist (and actually went to college as a biology major), an archaeologist, or an environmental scientist (this long before being green was a way of life). Nowhere in there was there a career dealing with teaching. Not. A. Singular. Thought.
I went to college and decided my sophomore year that I didn't want to be a scientist anymore (although I still love learning about the scientific world); there was no room for the creative side of me. So I thought I'd fall back on my second love, writing. I changed majors and became a student in my school's journalism program. I loved my classes because I could write, and journalism has a scientific quality to it in that there are formulas for everything you do. Style manuals to consult. Methods to write all information as concisely as possible. English rules learned in school. Guidelines for proofreading and editing work to make it readable. All while still being creative. I was home. I graduated with a degree in journalism and was ready to take on the world. Sort of.
I knew I was going to graduate school, so I went back home after graduation and worked with the YMCA for a period of time before moving away to grad school. I was a school-age (K-5) child care teacher in those hours before school begins and after school lets out. During the school day I worked on site at the Y in the toddler room. I loved being with the children and had fun. But I was still on my way to grad school.
I moved to Baltimore to take courses in African history and earn my Master's degree in graduate school (where I met my husband). My ultimate goal was to graduate with my degree and then go back to writing--this time in the form of textbooks. As someone who grew up with parents who spent their childhoods and young adult lives during the Civil Rights era, I was one generation out of the change and turmoil that took place. I wanted to write textbooks that added in accomplishments of African-Americans throughout history. (I cannot tell you how frustrating it was growing up and being asked to do Black History reports for class, only to find that there was information for a handful of people: Martin Luther King, Jr., Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, and Frederick Douglass. It was like my history began with slavery, took a hiatus, continued with Civil Rights, and ended.) Taking the courses in grad school was really eye-opening. From pre-colonial Africa to present-day current events, from continental Africa to the world, I could not believe there was so much wonderful information out there just waiting to be shared!
I finished at Morgan as a married woman with little bundle on the way. I found a few jobs temping at writing agencies, but nothing substantial until a month or so after my daughter was born. I found a job working for an investment company proofreading documents. The pay was wonderful, the benefits were excellent, but the time spent in the office was hard. Deadline, deadline, deadline. Add in my daily commute (2+ hours each day), and I was miserable. I was blessed that my husband was able to provide care for our daughter for nearly the first year of her life due to his work schedule, but that didn't last long. He found a better-paying job and we had to put her in daycare. Our provider was awesome--nurturing, organized, academically minded. But even then there was a nagging depression in my spirit. I hated not being able to see my daughter more than a few hours a day. Something had to give.
Shortly before my daughter's second birthday, I had a long talk with God. I asked Him what I needed to be doing. And in my spirit, I heard one word: "Teach." I waited for confirmation of this idea, and it came from three unlikely places. But it came nonetheless. So I applied for a job fair with the help and guidance of a friend who was teaching and was hired on the spot to teach in an urban school system. Looking back, God had prepared me for the career He had in mind. I helped my mom with the children who stayed with us from time to time as foster children. I tutored K-2 students in my junior and senior years in high school. I spent many hours babysitting. I tutored in college. I worked in the Y's program. I was a parent. Shortly after being hired, I quit my job at the investment company and spent several wonderful months with my daughter.
My employment as a teacher was conditional on the fact that I needed to take courses and earn my teaching degree, as I didn't have one. So the first two years of teaching involved learning everything needed to plan, organize, and discipline students along with quite a few graduate-level education courses through another college; courses needed to earn my certificate.
In the layout of my courses, there was no student teaching. I started classes shortly after the school year started. Any first-year teacher knows how hard just getting "into the groove" is. Add to that a toddler, a household to run, and a spouse who worked 60-70 hour weeks, and it was more like trial by fire. A SERIOUS learning curve. But by grace, I made it. By the time my son arrived (during the spring of my second year of teaching), I had the same challenges listed above along with a newborn. By grace, I finished all of my coursework (early!) the semester after having my son. By grace, I earned tenure that same year. By grace. BY.GRACE.
I stayed in the district a total of five years before moving to another state. The experiences I had during those five years are the cogs that turn the wheel for this blog. From dealing with students across learning abilities and styles to non-English speakers, from supplying ALL of your classroom needs out of your own pocket to deteriorating buildings, from the varied academic, social, and emotional needs of my students to the unconditional love of children, I've learned a LOT. I plan to share more on some of the tools, tricks, and techniques I've learned in the future.
Hope you'll stick around for more of the story.
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