ACTs were fast approaching, and it was time to start
applying for colleges. My sister was attending Illinois State University, and I’d
always taken comfort in having her around to show me the ropes. After all, she
did precisely that in high school, so why should college be any different? And I’d
already visited her at ISU—she, the doll that she is, looked after me as I got
absolutely inebriated from consuming exactly two and a half beers.
In my defense, I would have been lucky to weigh in at 120
lbs at 16.
Anyway, it was a no-brainer—I applied to ISU where I’d be
accepted to study elementary education and later earn my Bachelor’s degree as a
certified teacher for grades K-9.
My interest in working with kids began around the same time
I discovered I was a lightweight (completely unrelated). One of my first jobs was in my hometown’s Bartlett
Park District, and I was afforded the opportunity to work with children as
young as four. Most notable was coaching the littles how to play soccer and
basketball, a feat I was fairly successful at when the minions weren’t tackling
me to the ground. But I definitely wouldn’t have gained their affinity if it
weren’t for a coworker who showed me the ropes—basically, I learned that all
you need to get their attention is a little (okay, a lot of) enthusiasm. So I capitalized on that, and despite my introverted tendencies, I
became somewhat of a natural as an instructor.
I’d go on to work with kids in several different settings:
summer camps, before/after-school programs, one-on-one tutoring, clinical
classroom sessions, and eventually, student teaching (which, oddly enough, was
in San Antonio—long story short, my university offered education majors some “alternative
placements”, and there’s a certain allure to 70-degree weather in January when
you’re a Chicago native).
Now, I’d seen my fair share of challenges over the years,
but nothing really prepared me for student teaching. I remember begging my
co-op teacher, Mrs. Padgett, to stay in the classroom as much as possible, but
she was a great mentor and knew when to kick me out of the nest. Granted, I
flailed on the way down, but eventually landed on two feet just in time to walk
the stage for graduation.
To my surprise, that same school called me for an interview
about six weeks into summer. I didn’t flinch—my mother and I packed up a U-Haul
and scurried our way down to San Antonio. I was officially a 5th
grade teacher at Nichols Elementary School.
And I sucked at
it.
My first performance review was terrible, and I was
immediately placed on a TINA (Teacher in Need of Assistance) in order to
strengthen my classroom management skills. Fortunately, my principal and
colleagues were excellent advocates, and by the end of the year I was exceeding
expectations across several domains in PDAS (Professional Development and
Appraisal System). Yeah...it’s worth noting there are about a zillion acronyms
in the field of education. You’ve been warned.
This became the norm—I spent several more years teaching 5th
grade, then 4th, but something unprecedented happened after
about six or seven years in. My heart wasn’t in it anymore; I wanted a new
challenge, something that would help me grow as an educator and a person. So I
took the ELAR certification exam in order to pursue my next professional endeavor.
It wasn’t easy; I was a primary school teacher trying to
secure a position in high school, and for years I kept hitting brick walls. Even
my administration at the time suggested I apply for positions in middle school
to boost my chances of landing an interview, but something about that didn’t
sit right. It was time to step up my game.
After making a few calls, I learned about a two-week
English-Lit workshop offered in the summer. I signed up immediately.
So there I was with my Bachelor’s in Elementary Education
sitting among refined secondary English teachers, many with Master’s and PhDs
in Literature. But I was a natural fit, and the district leaders running the
workshop helped me land a couple interviews.
The first one was a bit forced and awkward, but the second felt like providence; I sat down with the principal and academic dean for
what seemed more like a casual meeting over coffee than an actual interview. At
its conclusion, I knew that my years at Nichols had come to an end.
After just over a semester of teaching Pre-AP English I, I was promoted
to level lead (our lead at the time was promoted to instructional coach at a
separate campus). And after two years,
my department leaders and administration saw fit to give me the privilege of
teaching English OnRamps, a dual-enrollment college course on rhetoric.
Holy crap.
I’d gone from teaching fourth grade to teaching a college-level
course in just two years.
As I reminisce, it almost doesn’t seem real. How did that
22-year-old kid who could barely manage a classroom end up teaching college
rhetoric? Truth be told, I had a lot of help from friends, family, and colleagues, but more importantly, I had a
belief in myself that never wavered.
It doesn’t matter if the odds are stacked up against you.
Goals, no matter how audacious, are worth pursuing. Will you fail? Absolutely.
But as Prince EA says, there’s no such thing as a smooth mountain. Trust the failure. Trust the doubt. And
when you make it to the peak, you’ll realize you aren’t even
close to finished—there’s a whole mountain range ahead.
So start climbing.
Photo Credit: @phibstuff (Instagram)
