You may know, if you've been reading here before, that I am on a job hunt this summer. And despite my somewhat long hiatus from my teaching career (to be a SAHM), I aim to teach. Each position I have applied for has had more than 100 applicants. Oddly there have been 4 openings for first grade teachers this year, which happens to be my area of expertise. I take that as a sign that I am meant to go through this process now. Change is in the air for me and I know, whether or not I land one of these teaching positions, that I am capable of great things. So with each interview, I go in and give the best that I know how at that given moment. I come home. I process the experience. I dig deeper. I learn. I grow. I am studying, researching and planning for the year as if I already have a job to plan for. I realize that is the only way that others will see I am ready for this leap. I must truly feel ready and confident. The only way I know how to accomplish that is "Just Do It".
What happens, then, if I don't earn one of these coveted teaching positions? After I spend the summer emerging myself in Core Curriculum Standards and pondering the best use of technology and methods for instilling, or engaging, or more aptly allowing children's love of learning to exist, develop, and grow. . . how will I handle it if I am not chosen for this role? What will I do with all the checklists and organizers I have printed off? I know I will be disappointed. Yet I also know change will come this fall in any case, and for that I am ready. I feel like I am poised on the edge of the ocean looking out and wondering what fine creature will crest and take me for a ride on this fine day.
Change is imminent for our family whatever the outcome. My baby will be off to preschool, she is going to love it. My oldest will start the year off knowing he is going to a place he is loved, for the first time since preschool. My middle son is still standing on the edge of the ocean with me as I try to navigate our options for his education, a dolphin? a blue whale? definitely not the shark, lest he fall off and become chum. I want him to ride with someone who will not turn on him if he slips, someone who will lead him to great things and lift him up for air or to check out the view when needed. Someplace he will not feel like a snail hiding in his shell among the pinchered crabs. Do we choose friendship? He is assigned to the same teacher as his best buddy at our local school. Or do we choose a better, kinder education? I try not to be frustrated we have to make that choice.
Change is constant. I can ride the waves of change to shore, or struggle against them, but they will come one after the other after the other. I know, sometimes, just when I think the tide has gone out and left me ashore, a rogue wave will come in to buoy me or at the very least, freshen the water where I stand. So my plan is to try hard to swim with the current, not against it, and to see where it takes me. Maybe there is a nice inlet full of sunshine, blue sky and glittering water just down the coast. Maybe there is a ship headed to a foreign land who will find me bobbing along and pull me on deck. Whatever the outcome of my search, wherever I find myself next, I aspire to embrace the change and all its dichotomous dependability and invigoration.
What happens, then, if I don't earn one of these coveted teaching positions? After I spend the summer emerging myself in Core Curriculum Standards and pondering the best use of technology and methods for instilling, or engaging, or more aptly allowing children's love of learning to exist, develop, and grow. . . how will I handle it if I am not chosen for this role? What will I do with all the checklists and organizers I have printed off? I know I will be disappointed. Yet I also know change will come this fall in any case, and for that I am ready. I feel like I am poised on the edge of the ocean looking out and wondering what fine creature will crest and take me for a ride on this fine day.
Change is imminent for our family whatever the outcome. My baby will be off to preschool, she is going to love it. My oldest will start the year off knowing he is going to a place he is loved, for the first time since preschool. My middle son is still standing on the edge of the ocean with me as I try to navigate our options for his education, a dolphin? a blue whale? definitely not the shark, lest he fall off and become chum. I want him to ride with someone who will not turn on him if he slips, someone who will lead him to great things and lift him up for air or to check out the view when needed. Someplace he will not feel like a snail hiding in his shell among the pinchered crabs. Do we choose friendship? He is assigned to the same teacher as his best buddy at our local school. Or do we choose a better, kinder education? I try not to be frustrated we have to make that choice.
Change is constant. I can ride the waves of change to shore, or struggle against them, but they will come one after the other after the other. I know, sometimes, just when I think the tide has gone out and left me ashore, a rogue wave will come in to buoy me or at the very least, freshen the water where I stand. So my plan is to try hard to swim with the current, not against it, and to see where it takes me. Maybe there is a nice inlet full of sunshine, blue sky and glittering water just down the coast. Maybe there is a ship headed to a foreign land who will find me bobbing along and pull me on deck. Whatever the outcome of my search, wherever I find myself next, I aspire to embrace the change and all its dichotomous dependability and invigoration.
2 comments:
Wishing you the best on your adventure and hoping you will find a wonderful place to dock!
I feel for you. Uncertainty is the bane of my existance. It takes bravery and resolve to persevere and push beyond the unknown.
I very much like this quote:
"I know, sometimes, just when I think the tide has gone out and left me ashore, a rogue wave will come in to buoy me or at the very least, freshen the water where I stand."
I have a fine image to add to my mental gallery for those times. Thank you and good luck!
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