Reflection...#2

There's a part one to this - I just haven't finished it.  Odd to finish part two before part one?  Yes, but that's the way my mind works...so bear with me.  I wrote this earlier today while I was finishing up at school.

I was standing at my podium, watching my students furrow their brows and intensively take the EOC, when it dawned on me...holy crap...I like what I do.

I think it has taken five years, a lot of tears, many frustrated conversations with friends and colleagues, and a whole lot of anxiety, to finally get to "this" place.

I remember walking into school with a veteran teacher several years ago and she smiled at my doubt and said, "Wait 'til year five - I promise you'll love it."  I nodded my 'yea right' nod and walked on my way into what I looked at then as my doomsday.  I couldn't have foreshadowed then or even at the beginning of this year that she could have been right.

The other "ah-ha" moment happened the other night at dinner.  A few of my friends met me to celebrate me one foot closer to the grave.  I invited my former student teacher/current good friend, Lexie.  She's made it through her first year and all my friends (who happen to be mostly teachers) raised their glasses in congratulations.  Lexie asked if it gets easier, and we all smiled and said yes, yes - maybe not easier, but so much better.

I know that I am a different teacher than I was five years ago.  I'm more confident, have more resources, and am less afraid of failure.  Now, this isn't to say that I don't have my doubts, freak outs, or "what the hell" moments, but they're different.

I credit this to so many people, opportunities, and events.  My group of friends have been there since school day numero uno.  It helps that we're all in an educational settings - whether it be in school or teaching school.  We've e-mailed for the past five years with prayer requests, good news, funny stories, help me's, and just general "YOU GOT THIS".  The blanket of encompassing love, support, and faith they've given me will never be able to be repaid.  I'm simply one of the lucky few who can say, "I have the most INCREDIBLE group of friends!" and mean it with every ounce of my heart.

My family is a beacon of light in my darkest moments - and trust me when I say there have been some pitch black days.  I've called my mom with tears running down my face, texted my sister with ridiculous worries, fretted over anxiety with my cousin, and held my Granny's hand when I just wanted to give up. Their's is a constant love.  A warm light at the end of so many cold days.

At this point...this is beginning to sound like an acceptance speech - my apologies...

I have to give my loving thanks to my Rockingham friends.  Moving to a new place is BEYOND scary, but my friends have made my past five years wonderful.  I hate meeting new people, I hate change, but moving here has helped me to get over those fears.  For that, itself, I'm beyond thankful.  My administration and county leaders have allowed me to grow professionally through leadership positions and professional developments.  That has helped my confidence to grow.  It takes a village, right?!

This isn't an easy job. I stay mad a lot of days.  The politics, red tape, 'senate proposals', tests, and all that hooplah make me want to hide in a cave.  However, I look out into my classroom and see my kids.  I listen to my friend who says to remember that it's more than teaching.  It's believing in the kids, teaching them more than the books - teaching them life lessons.  Love one another.  You are exceptionally wonderful.  You can do anything you put your mind to.  You have a voice.  These are the big lessons.  I can teach literary elements, grammar, and vocab 'til I'm blue in the face, but I want my students to leave with more than that.  I want them to know that while they were in my classroom, they were loved, accepted, and taught respect.

It's been a long five years...twenty more.  But I'm realizing that there's nothing else I want to do.  So...BRING. IT. ON.