Friday, July 5, 2019

Reflection #9

*Old post found in the drafts...from June 2017*

I've spent the better part of the past two years wondering if I made the right decision to leave Rockingham.  I try to remember why I left.  Why was it important in that moment to move?  The things I left behind (status, students knowing me, clubs, department responsibilities, faculty, etc).  Why was I ready to leave?  I think, at the time, I felt like I had hit a wall or rut or something.  Like Thoreau walking to and from his house at Walden Lake - there was this routine and I felt I needed something else.

There were, of course, several other factors that came into play.  I wanted to be closer to my family, I needed a stronger social life with people my age, I needed out of the small town where there was very little going on.  Basically, I needed an overhaul.  A change.

When the opportunity to teach at Mt. Tabor came, I didn't feel like I could turn it down.  It came at an opportune time in my life to welcome change and act on it. It meant moving to a bigger town, teaching with two of my best friends, working at a well-known school, working for an enthusiastic principal who made me feel at home from the moment I interviewed with him.  Did I give it enough thought?  I don't know.  I don't regret one moment of it.  I was closer to Morganton when everything with Granny went down.  I was able to teach with Em and Carrie.  I was forced to grow in my teaching and change the way I taught.  I met students who challenged me.  Yet, most of the time...it was hard.  It was really hard.  Dealing with the emotions of Granny's illness and death on top of really difficult students was, at times, more than I could handle. So, once again, this opportunity to move back home stuck in my head.  Had it been eight years previous, there wouldn't have been a hesitation.  But moving meant starting over...again.

Moving back to Freedom?  Moving back home?  Living in Granny's house?  Moving away from the city and my friends?  Moving away from something I was just getting used to?  These all kept me wondering whether it was the right decision to move.  Of course, there were positives.  But I was again in a position of having to make a BIG decision.

I prayed and talked to friends and family.  I decided to at least make an attempt and go from there.  After an interview that felt like it went well and walking around my old alma mater and feeling like it might be a good fit...the limbo and waiting set in.  And then the call came and the ball was officially rolling.

Reality set in.  I was going to have to learn a new school and students and faculty...again.  Moving...again.  Finding my place in my old town and school.  These daunting thoughts kept me grounded in the land of doubt, fret, anxiety, and fear (granted, I stay in that land 80% of the time).

August rolled in and moving was finally over.  House was on its way of becoming my home.  The classroom was set up.  Now to really begin...again.

The year started off well.  I really, really love the English department at FHS.  They're kind, supportive, hilarious, and incredible at what they do.  I also found other faculty members who welcomed me and took me under their wing.  Teaching all freshmen was something brand new.  I've taught freshmen before, but three back to back to back classes..whew.  Discovering ways to help my kids plus figuring out other programs the county has in place forced me into even more learning.  If you ever think you've been enlightened on everything that there is to learn in teaching you're crazy.

Even in my 9th year of this profession, I found so many errors.  I know perfection never happens in teaching - nor should it!  If you're not learning from your craft, something is wrong.  I'm hard on myself.  I find the errors and it grounds me and frustrates me into thinking that I'm not a good teacher.  I had to quickly get over that.

This year has, again, been challenging.  I expect (in some way or another) every year to be challenging.  Last year was challenging...which leads me back to my original question...why did I leave Rockingham?  Why didn't I just move from Ruffin to Greensboro?  Just bought a cute condo or townhouse?  Commute 25 minutes - continue teaching my classes I was used to and really build the new programs I had started there.

Why?

Because it's God's plan and not mine.  Because I needed Caroline when I got the news that my grandmother wasn't doing well.  Because I needed and trusted Em and Carrie to take care of my classes when I wasn't there, and I needed them to catch me when I fell apart in those next few weeks.  I needed that hour closer to Morganton.  I needed to learn how to quickly break up a fight.  Because God knew where I was needed.  Because maybe I helped a few kids that year at Tabor.  He knew and He knows even when I don't.  (I feel like sometimes He is using an old worn out map instead of Google Maps.)

Working at FHS this year has been a hard transition.  Learning new things, learning how to not completely lose my temper when 30 freshmen push every button you have.  But being here has been such a treat, too.  Working with amazing teachers.  Working with friends.  Laughing til it hurts at lunch and making new connections.  Teaching kids who make me laugh and make me cry and make me scream (internally) and make me remember why I teach.

God knows where I'm supposed to be.  I love the people I work with.  I love making Granny's home into my home.  I love being close to my family.  I love that I'm not too far from any of my friends.

I don't doubt His plan.  I still (and always will) miss Rockingham.  But it's not where I'm meant to be right now at this point in my life.  The grass isn't always greener, but with sunshine, water, and love, you can reminisce and think about the other side while learning to love and grow where you are - and love making memories on both.

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