This school year marks a full decade that I have been teaching. I love being a teacher. I love being in my classroom. I love the opportunity I have to be a positive influence in my students’ lives. It’s the whole reason I became a teacher. Ironic, then, that teaching was not my first choice as a profession. In my Intro to Education class, our professor had us write a short essay on why we wanted to be teachers. We then had to share them with the class. Time after time, each student stood before the class explaining that he or she had “always wanted to be a teacher.” I was close to the end, and imagine everyone’s surprise when the first line of my essay was, “I never wanted to be a teacher.” It’s true. As a child, I dreamed of being a corporate lawyer. I wanted to travel all around the globe and make a lot of money. However, as a teenager, I endured some pretty turbulent times. Going through the negative circumstances that I did caused me to re-think my career path. I decided to pursue a degree in social work, then become lawyer working in the juvenile courts. When I received my AA degree, I had completed all the prerequisites for the social work program. However, I had graduated in December, and the social work program only accepted new students in the summer or fall terms. That left me with an entire semester off from school. During this same time, I continued to substitute teach at local schools. I had been subbing for at least a year or more for extra income and to build my resume. The semester break I had from school left me with quite a bit of time to sub. I did most of my subbing at one middle school, so I became very familiar to the students. They would ask me why I wasn’t a “real” teacher and comment that I would make a good one. I began evaluating my time in the classroom and realized I really enjoyed it. I loved the relationships I built with the students, even though I was “just a sub.” By the end of that school year, I had decided to enter the education program instead of social work. I spent that summer completing four of the five prerequisites needed to be accepted into the College of Education. I had to get special permission to complete the fifth class the first semester of my acceptance. I did all that, and the rest – as they say- is history. I have never regretted that decision. I love being a public school teacher. I firmly believe that education is the great equalizer, and every student deserves a high quality education. Various sources have stated that public education is the foundation of our democracy, and I believe them. That is why I will continue to be an advocate for quality public education- accessible by all. But, more on that another day because I just realized how late it is. Facing 120 freshman students on a Monday morning with inadequate sleep is not fun. Til next time, my friends. Be sure to thank a teacher for your ability to read and comprehend this entry.
Month: April 2013
I am a Runner
It is fitting that my first blog about running is being written tonight. Tomorrow morning, I am running our local art festival’s 5k race. Seven years ago, this is the race that started it all. I have ran at various times in my life. I was on my middle school track team; I ran for fun during high school (too bad my tiny private school didn’t have a track team); I ran for fitness. However, that first 5k is when I became a runner. I loved the camaraderie, the challenge, and then the thrill of finishing. I was hooked. Later that same year, my marriage began to fall apart as I found out that my now ex-husband was seeing another woman. It crushed my spirit. Even though this was my second marriage, I had poured myself into making this family work so my children could have the stability of a two-parent home. Their biological father had all but vanished from their lives due to his struggles with mental illness and addiction. My son didn’t even remember him and considered his step-father to be his “dad.” I thought, although we had our struggles, overall we were a happy family. Imagine my shock to find out this wasn’t the case. In the middle of this heartbreak, I turned to running. Out on the open road, it was just me and God. As I ran, I would pray, reminisce, sort through my thoughts, meditate, and just be. My runs were a respite from the circumstances in my life I couldn’t control. I could control every aspect of my runs- how far, how fast, how frequent. A year later, I ran that same art fest 5k. This time, there wasn’t anyone waiting for me at the finish line. But I ran it quite a bit faster than I had the year before 🙂 And I felt like a load had been lifted off me as I crossed that finish line. I knew I was strong. I knew I could overcome. I knew I wanted more. So I signed up for my first half-marathon seven months later. Training for that first half gave me so much strength, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. So of course, when I completed that one, I a) signed up for another and b) signed up for my first marathon. Running my first marathon was an experience that deserves its own entry, but suffice to say for now that it was one of the crowning achievements in my life. And here I am, seven years later….still running. There have been obstacles along the way – a fractured foot, ruptured discs, grad school. Yet, I always return to running. A happy life requires balance. My family fuels my heart, my faith fuels my spirit, but running fuels my soul.
The Almost-Empty Nest
Of all the hats I wear, being a mom is the most important one. My children are my everything. They are the reasons behind everything I do, every decision I make. I was married at 18 and had my daughter soon afterward. My son came along two years and four months later, just as we planned it. Contrary to what many people thought at the time, my kids weren’t “oops” babies. Their births were planned precisely, much to my mother’s chagrin. I was young, in love, and knew that I had a list of goals a mile long that I wanted to accomplish. I was worried if I didn’t have children early, I would get so caught up in pursuing those goals that I would “forget” to have kids. I can honestly say, even though we were really poor for a really long time, it was the best decision I ever made. Furthermore, I have met each goal I created by the milestones I had predetermined oh, so long ago. I take pride in my accomplishments but am even more proud of the young adults my children have grown to be. I now find myself at the verge of having an empty nest. My daughter is finishing her second year of college, so she has one foot in the nest and the other one on the branch. She is poised to fly, and I realize it more each day. My son is graduating in less than a month. He is going into the Air Force, and I just found out that he earned an ASVAB score high enough to guarantee him pretty much any job he would like. As if all this growing up wasn’t enough, I will be celebrating my 40th birthday later this year. I really just want to stop the clock and have some time to savor this moment because everything is happening so fast. When my daughter went off to school, I was hit with the realization that our relationship would change drastically- that although she technically still called our family house her home, it would never be the same. I understand that a little deeper each time she’s home on a break from school. The house is a little cleaner, special menu items are cooked, my regular schedule is interrupted (and I am sometimes a little aggravated by it). These are the types of issues that should occur when house guests arrive, or out-of-town relatives, not my own kid. But then, I remember. My kid IS an out-of-town relative. As if that’s not mind-boggling enough, now my son is about to join her. My son, who at his birth I knew would be my last baby. My son, who grew up being told that he would always be my baby (a statement that now causes him to grimace). His exit from the nest will be much more severe. Not only is there not another child still at home for me to focus all my attention on, but he will be at the beck and call of the Armed Forces. There will be the added stress and worry of where he gets sent and what will face him when he gets there. I want to stop time. Since I can’t, I will treasure every second I possibly can while I have them. My daughter is halfway through college, my son is about to leave home, and I’m on the brink of 40. Thank goodness running is cheaper than therapy…but we’ll talk about that next time.
The Introduction
Welcome! As I thought about how to begin this blogging journey, I decided that the best thing to do was introduce myself. Yet, the thought of introducing myself leads to much more complex scenarios. Where do I start? If I were to create a list, it would look something like the following: I am a…. Mother, Teacher, Friend, Runner, Yogi, Conqueror, Positive Force, Adventurer, Service Industry Worker, Music and Book Lover, etcetera etcetera etcetera (as the King of Siam would say). These titles and adjectives only create a superficial scratch in the surface. There is no way to sum up in one short paragraph the essence of who I am, or any individual for that matter. However, this why I am compelled to write. To share my musings on my life and the world that surrounds me. My hope is, while expressing my humanity, I will in some small way connect to yours. So, again… Welcome! I hope you will enjoy reading my writings as much as I will enjoy creating them. Til next time…
Words from the Long Run 