Throwing in the towel is hard to do when there's no place to go.
While a part of me started to suspect the job was not mine, it nonetheless felt like a punch to the gut. Another "more qualified candidate" filled the position. I was sitting in the parking lot of a Walgreens when I read the email. It's never a good thing to receive bad news in a public place. I started to cry, so I drove away, wondering what I'm supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be. While I wanted to flee the scene--have my little breakdown in private--I almost wanted to drive away from my life. A part of me felt--and still feels--like I've made such a mess of my life that I want to start over, wipe the slate clean.
With a month before school resumes, I guess that's what I'm attempting to do. Though I may not have been hired for my dream job, I know there are other places out there. So far I've applied for three other positions and have found five jobs today I'm interested in. One of the applications requires a personal statement addressing who I am and why I'm personally invested in a particular cause. My resume is up-to-date and I've written an amazing cover letter, but I have no idea how to describe who I am.
I could describe what I'm not. I'm not an optimist or an idealist anymore. I don't have any pretenses about next year--that things can get better with a different attitude, that summer break will refresh me and the kids. I'm not a dreamer. Or a fighter. I'm not passionate. Or a believer. I'm most certainly not successful. I've become a person who is operating and existing on survival mode. I'm financially and emotionally broke. I'm lost and experiencing loss. A profound loss.
But I can't say any of that.
In the meantime I guess I just put on this face of contentment, exude this aura of confidence, write about who I want to be. It feels ridiculous, like a child's game of dress-up, but what choice do I have?
Showing posts with label life after the classroom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life after the classroom. Show all posts
Monday, July 9, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
The Final Lessons
I'm still waiting to hear about that job, and the longer I wait, the more discouraged I become. I just want to know so I can move on or prepare to leave. Either way, for whatever reason, I feel in the deepest part of myself that in the next three weeks I am teaching my final lessons.
Last week was state testing, so as I proctored, I used that time to set my schedule for the three weeks that will follow. I wanted to do something really meaningful for both the students and for me, so I decided to recycle a unit I had used several years ago on The Crucible and modern witch hunts. I was both relieved and amazed. Relieved because I don't have to recreate the wheel, but amazed because I used to be such a good teacher. I put so much time and energy into what I did, and it showed. The work I demanded of my students was intellectually and emotionally rigorous, and now? Well, I feel ashamed. My class is a vacant representation of who I once was.
I wonder, are these final lessons meant for me or for my students?
If they're for my students, the lessons are what I've intended to teach all along. Lessons that urge them to be more open-minded, accepting people who are politically aware, who are critical consumers, who are prepared to pick up a pen or exert their own voice.
If they're for me, I don't know. Lessons in how a teacher dies a slow death in this system? Lessons in the consequences of budget cuts and high-stakes testing? Lessons in the futility of our current educational system? Or maybe the lessons are personal ones.
I took a hike yesterday in a place I've never hiked before. I had no idea where I was going--I was just following the path ahead. I kept wondering Where is this path going to lead? That's how I feel about my life right now: I have no idea where this path is going to lead. All I know is where I've been. Along the way, I've had some amazing experiences and I've met some amazing people, but somewhere on this path, I lost myself. I started to not trust what I know and what I feel. Somewhere on this path, someone else took control. Now I have to get that control--get myself--back.
It's terrifying not knowing, especially when I don't trust, especially when I don't have faith. If anything, these last two years have taken both from me. I don't like admitting that. It sounds so victimish, so weak, but it's true. And while I don't trust or have faith this job will happen for me, I trust and have faith in my instincts about this job. It feels right. It feels me. I can't remember the last time I've felt that about anything.
I don't know where this path is going, but I know where I want it to lead. So maybe these lessons aren't about my students after all. Maybe they are meant for me to prepare myself for where I want to go.
Last week was state testing, so as I proctored, I used that time to set my schedule for the three weeks that will follow. I wanted to do something really meaningful for both the students and for me, so I decided to recycle a unit I had used several years ago on The Crucible and modern witch hunts. I was both relieved and amazed. Relieved because I don't have to recreate the wheel, but amazed because I used to be such a good teacher. I put so much time and energy into what I did, and it showed. The work I demanded of my students was intellectually and emotionally rigorous, and now? Well, I feel ashamed. My class is a vacant representation of who I once was.
I wonder, are these final lessons meant for me or for my students?
If they're for my students, the lessons are what I've intended to teach all along. Lessons that urge them to be more open-minded, accepting people who are politically aware, who are critical consumers, who are prepared to pick up a pen or exert their own voice.
If they're for me, I don't know. Lessons in how a teacher dies a slow death in this system? Lessons in the consequences of budget cuts and high-stakes testing? Lessons in the futility of our current educational system? Or maybe the lessons are personal ones.
I took a hike yesterday in a place I've never hiked before. I had no idea where I was going--I was just following the path ahead. I kept wondering Where is this path going to lead? That's how I feel about my life right now: I have no idea where this path is going to lead. All I know is where I've been. Along the way, I've had some amazing experiences and I've met some amazing people, but somewhere on this path, I lost myself. I started to not trust what I know and what I feel. Somewhere on this path, someone else took control. Now I have to get that control--get myself--back.
It's terrifying not knowing, especially when I don't trust, especially when I don't have faith. If anything, these last two years have taken both from me. I don't like admitting that. It sounds so victimish, so weak, but it's true. And while I don't trust or have faith this job will happen for me, I trust and have faith in my instincts about this job. It feels right. It feels me. I can't remember the last time I've felt that about anything.
I don't know where this path is going, but I know where I want it to lead. So maybe these lessons aren't about my students after all. Maybe they are meant for me to prepare myself for where I want to go.
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