A New Adventure in Teaching

Posted on March 30, 2023 ·

The other day at work I was making copies when my principal asked if she could jump in. I said sure, and she joked about not having her own copy code after three years at the school. Four must be the magic number then, I replied, because I’d only received mine this year. And that’s when it hit me—I’ve been there four years.

The period between 2019 and now will never not feel like a time warp; I’m convinced an entire year disappeared there somewhere. And yet the summer I began my job as a preschool aide feels like another lifetime. I loved that job dearly; I knew within months I wanted to become a teacher and swiftly enrolled in a post-baccalaureate program. 

During my studies, I remained working at the small neighborhood elementary school that felt so much like home. When a teaching position opened last year (in preschool!) I was thrilled to take it on and come full circle. But throughout it all I’d always felt a pull toward middle school as well. 

Choosing which route to follow had initially been a struggle for me—teaching pre-literacy and foundational skills to our smallest learners, or teaching English language arts to preteens? Yet part of the beauty of teaching is that you don’t really have to choose beyond a year or two, and I think I always knew I’d end up trying both. 

So in January, with my principal’s blessing, I applied for an in-district transfer, and I’m happy to say I got the job! Next year I’ll be teaching English at the same middle school my children attended. I’ll miss the easy affection and innocent joy of my preschoolers, but I’m looking forward to the wild energy of 6th grade.

Now, off to plan my novel studies…

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Happy Endings

Posted on April 15, 2021 ·

Image by Michal Jarmoluk from Pixabay

Somehow it’s April and student teaching is behind me. I spent January and February learning how to teach a class of second grade students online, and then I spent March getting to know them in person.

As hard as it was to say goodbye, I had the incredible fortune of telling them that I’d see them again next year—the school offered a contract and I happily accepted. I am going to be a second-grade teacher.

I remember when my son was in second grade and how I especially enjoyed volunteering that year. I remember thinking that maybe I belonged in education, that once I could devote myself full time to a career, it should be a career devoted to children. Now, after some surprising twists and turns, that time is here, and it feels like a dream come true.

Come July, I will be furiously prepping for the school year—planning with my team, poring over the curriculum, setting up my very own classroom (!!!), and nervously awaiting the August arrival of 25-30 seven-year-old students.

Until then, I am settling into a quieter place—that dreamy, unbound state of mind where creativity flourishes, where stories take root and grow. The next story is already there, waiting. I wonder if it will grow wild or if it’s one of those that needs to be carefully tended in order to bloom. Either way is okay with me.

I know a few things: it’s middle grade. It’s a summer story. And, as befits this year of happy endings, it’s a fairy tale.

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That’s a Wrap on Halloween Eternal! Now What?

Posted on January 31, 2021 ·

Image via Pixabay

2021 is off to a busy start for me, although I’m on a leave of absence from both of my jobs. What’s keeping me busy is student teaching, a twelve-week internship where I get to put into practice everything I’ve learned the last fourteen months about lesson plans, early childhood development, classroom management, and so much more.

It’s wildly stressful at times and also super fun, and it is definitely a full-time gig. But so far I’ve been able to stick with my writing routine—squeezing in an hour every morning to work on edits for Halloween Eternal. And yesterday … I finished! The middle grade horror I drafted in August and have been editing since December is now on its way to its very first reader, my awesome critique partner, Carrie.

Sharing your work is always a little scary, especially when it’s in the early stages. But I’m fortunate to have a CP who is generous with her praise, gentle with her criticisms, and doesn’t miss a thing. Halloween Eternal is in very safe hands.

So what’s next? I’m not sure yet. I’m trying to decide between another editing project or drafting something new. Maybe I’ll write some new essays, which I really miss doing. Maybe I’ll write a long short story. I’m giving myself until Valentine’s Day to figure it out, and until then, I’ll just be here writing random things like blog posts, articles, and lots of lesson plans.

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One Hour a Day

Posted on November 30, 2020 ·

Photo by Jiyeon Park on Unsplash

A year ago this week I started coursework for my post-baccalaureate teaching certification. Today I submitted my final assignments, and now I have the month of December to prepare for student teaching. I have no idea what that will look like—probably no one does—but whether virtually or in-person I’m looking forward to meeting the group of second graders I’ve been assigned to.

I’m nervous. I’m excited. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that next fall I’ll have my own classroom. I spend a lot of time thinking about it.

I also spend a lot of time thinking about my writing and how I’ll continue prioritizing something that’s very important to me. It shouldn’t be hard because, in all honesty, it doesn’t take much time to write—not when you do it every day. And since August of 2019 I’ve committed to being an everyday writer.

I don’t want to lose that. Once I made writing a simple, non negotiable, daily habit, I drafted three books in a year. Again, it doesn’t take much time. One hour a day is plenty. (The hour matters, however; the earlier the better.)

The struggle with teaching will be keeping my headspace clear for that hour. Over and over I hear about how all-consuming the profession is, especially in the first few years. On one hand I want to embrace the challenge, but I also want to avoid burning out like so many new teachers do. The key is insisting on balance, and I’m hoping age will work in my favor.

At forty-five, I have no problems anymore asking for what I need from my family. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries at work and not feeling guilty about it. I’m wise enough to understand that for anyone to get the best version of me, I need that hour of creative release in the morning. Can I manage to shut everything out and keep claiming that time for me, for my stories?

I’m pretty sure I can. I may just have to get up an hour earlier.

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Am I Doing Enough?

Posted on June 16, 2020 ·

Image by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash

Something I’ve learned in the last year as I work toward my teaching certification is how imperative on-going self-assessment is. Teachers are expected to constantly evaluate themselves—every morning before class, after each encounter with every child, during each lesson, at the end of every day. This is not only to ensure the effectiveness of lessons but to compel teachers to examine unflinchingly their own personal biases and cultural sensitivity.

Am I doing enough to make sure every single child in my classroom feels valued, supported, cared for, seen?

Am I doing enough to make sure every single child sees him or herself reflected, represented, respected, in their classroom?

Am I doing enough?

In 2015, while pursuing my English degree, I enrolled in an African-American literature course that introduced me to the voices of Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, Ralph Ellison, and James Baldwin, among others. Why, in all my years of schooling (I grew up in the 80s/early 90s) had I never been assigned classic works of literature by these authors? That’s the first question, the easy question. On further self-reflection, however, the question becomes this: Why had I never before sought these voices out?

Am I doing enough?

Last year I read 62 books; three were by Black authors. The year before that I read 72 books; four were by Black authors. This shameful disparity was one I hadn’t even noticed before. The easy question is, why aren’t there more books by Black authors being published and championed? On further self-reflection, the question becomes this: Why haven’t I been seeking out more books by Black authors?

Am I doing enough?

Making excuses is easy. Accepting personal responsibility is harder. I’m not doing enough. And as an aspiring teacher whose job it will be to develop and implement an anti-bias curriculum, create an inclusive, multicultural classroom, and model behaviors like empathy, respect, and tolerance, I need to do more—and keep asking the question.

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A Fond Farewell to 2019

Posted on December 30, 2019 ·

Image from MAKY_OREL on Pixabay

Like a well-written novel, 2019 was full of twists, challenges, change, and triumph.

It began with my job being eliminated mid-January, which forced me to reevaluate what I wanted to do for a living. I decided I’d rather piece together part-time jobs and work twice as many hours than go back to working as a floor nurse.

I applied for laboratory positions at hospitals (before becoming a nurse, I worked very happily as a phlebotomist), I applied at bookstores (of course it’s my dream job), and I applied at schools, hoping to get a position as a teacher’s assistant.

I ended up getting a weekend job as a phlebotomist which paid nearly as well as my nursing job. And then, over the summer, I received an offer for a TA position with Tempe Elementary School District. Awesome! Only … although this position was at an elementary school, it was actually in a preschool.

Hmm. Many years had passed since I’d been around three and four year olds. I had bleary memories of little balls of energy with the attention spans of puppies and shocking fits of temper. Still, kids are kids. I took the job.

And I completely fell in love with it. The 18 children that I’m privileged to spend 20 hours a week with bring me so much joy; instead of feeling drained at the end of the work day, I feel energized. And I’ve rediscovered something I once knew—that I belong in the classroom. It doesn’t matter if they’re preschoolers, second graders, fourth graders, or middle schoolers. I enjoy being around children, and I truly feel as if I can make a difference to them.

With this in mind, I tentatively reached out to the teaching certification program I’d dropped out of in November of 2016. At the time I was burned out on school, having just earned my bachelor’s degree from Arizona State University, and due to events of that month that I need not name, I’d lost hope in making any kind of positive change in the world.

The teaching program had great news; although it had been three years, I was still technically enrolled and only had to register for classes to jump back in. I did, switching from elementary education to early childhood (I mentioned I fell in love with preschoolers, right?), and already I’m halfway through my first semester. This time next year I will be preparing to student teach, and by spring of 2021 I will be a certified teacher.

The saying “everything happens for a reason” irks many, and I can see why, but in most cases I feel it is true. There’s no doubt that if my position hadn’t been cut at the beginning of the year, something that felt pretty awful at the time, I would not have ended up in a job I love and on my way toward a career that matches my interests and personality.

I also wouldn’t have met the 18 little people who make me laugh and warm my heart every single day. It feels as if everything has fallen into a place I was meant to be.

On to writerly things! Here are a few highlights from 2019:

In January, my short story “Gratitude” won runner-up in Women on Writing’s flash fiction contest.

In April, Women on Writing featured me in an interview on their blog.

In September, my essay “Growing Pains” was published in Mothers Always Write.

In December, Motherwell announced that my essay, published in fall, was one of their seven most read pieces of the year.

I drafted several new short stories and essays in my fall writing workshop; added some layers and an epilogue to my fourth book, The House on Linden Way; drafted a novella that I’d been wanting to write for several years, about boys and volcanoes and the trappings of faith; and spent a month plotting a cozy mystery which I’m now nearly done drafting —it will be finished in late January.

Goals for 2020 include reading a lot (52 books minimum), writing a lot, and finding an agent. This last one is key. I haven’t tried hard enough to find representation for my books; in fact, throughout the years I’ve submitted my second book to maybe six agents, my third to two or three, and my fourth to about a dozen.

Why the anemic effort? Part of it is that I tend to focus on the aspects of writing completely within my control, like the actual writing. Part of it is that I fragment my attention working on novels, short stories, essays, and articles. Part of it is that because I publish short stories and essays fairly regularly I put most of my submission efforts into those.

In 2020 that all changes.

Happy New Year, everyone!

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