A year after graduating from college--a year spent substitute teaching--I received a phone call from a principal. It was late August and school had already started in the town where we lived at the time. I wasn't expecting to be hired that late in the year. The principal introduced himself and told me about his school--a small, private Catholic school 25 miles away, across the state line. He mentioned the salary--about half what public school teachers made. On the phone I had all kinds of excuses not to take the job. Where did you get my name? I asked. The career center at your university. I don't have a license to teach in your state, I argued. You'll pass the test, I've seen your grades. I'm not Catholic, I protested. Neither was I until a couple of years ago, but I'm not looking to convert anyone right now. Damn! I thought. I'm running out of excuses. Just come in for an interview, he said.
The interview, which was to last about 30 minutes, was almost 3 hours long. I felt like I had come home. School started in a week and I was ready when the little guys arrived. Actually, several straggled in during the days leading up to the beginning of the school year, just to meet the new teacher.
It wasn't just the students at that school. You became a part of their entire family. Without asking I had needs met that I didn't even know were needs. One father made a heavy-duty wooden holder for my construction paper. Anyone who has taught little kids knows what a pain construction paper can be when you need the color on the bottom of the stack. Without even asking I was presented with a wonderful system for storing the colors separately. It sounds small, but it was huge. There were numerous other things they did for me over the years I taught kindergarten at the school.
The staff was another reason that my experience at this school was so wonderful. They were more than just collegues, they were family. There was just such an easiness (is that even a word?) in our interactions with one another. I don't remember any drama. How refreshing!
If Hubby hadn't taken a job 6 hours away, I would probably still be there today. Sure the money sucked and there wasn't any prestige, but it was just such a good fit for me. Last spring I googled the local paper from where that school is. I realized the first class I taught was graduating. I found a picture of 8 girls in formal wear, representing the court from some spring dance. Five of the girls were mine. They were beautiful--very mature and poised, ready for their futures. I had to smile, thinking I had some small part in preparing them for that future.
And that was my first, and most, amazing job.
1 comment:
It almost makes me cry to know that you had such a great experience and now you aren't in the classroom. Have you contacted private or parochial schools?
Only someone who has taught can really understand how we teachers feel. You are a special person and deserve to be in a classroom.
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