Working in America

After being back in Woodstock for three and a half months (which seems like nothing and a long time all in one breath) and life not going at all like I had planned or hoped it would when I came home, I decided that I needed to get out and do my thing.

Originally, I didn't want to substitute teach. I knew that I would do a great job, but part of me, the professional part, felt like it would be taking a few steps back. (I had been offered several wonderful opportunities in Alaska, both part and full-time, but with Mom and Grandma, I just felt that staying around right now would be best for everyone.)

Last Friday before the start of the weekend, I officially signed up to sub in my local school district. I sighed when I pushed the return button for the final time, not really sure that I wanted to, but knowing that Mom was doing better and that I had to start work whether or not it was a full-time position.

I woke up this morning enthused beyond belief for the day ahead of me, an added quickness to my step with my new purpose. Did I mention feelings of nervousness? Once at the school, I signed in at the office and wandered down the halls of what used to be my middle school. Not a lot had changed and being in the building brought back a lot of memories.

I read and reread through the plans for the day, walked around the room, and took in the surroundings. Suddenly, the teacher from across the hall stepped in, which was the same teacher that had been on my interview panel for the job I had went after months ago. After introductions and her remembering me, she went on to say how they really wished that they would have been able to hire me (another teacher in the district transferred) and how much they had wanted me at their school, and how that feeling continued even months later.

Minutes later, students started coming in, one girl looked me over time and time again and said, "Wow, you are really tall." I tried saying that it was the heels, but she and I both knew better. The day got started and hummed along, fifth graders being so amazing to me that I often caught myself watching them work with a smile on my face, feelings of pride not really being well earned, but so blown over by their young adult I-can-do-it attitudes, how could one not feel some sense of pride? (I have been told that I am easily won over, prideful smiles and acknowledgements constantly spilling out about my loved ones from my lips, so I guess it really wasn't that big of a stretch.) I got enthralled when they raised their hands to ask for my help or to help them act out their parts for the first time when they practiced their class skit.

The morning, then afternoon flew by, and soon we were all saying "Ziajian!" the word I taught all of them at the beginning of the day after they had asked a little bit about me. The word for goodbye in Chinese. With the first day done, I went on to meet a friend and share my day, stories of chuckles and head-nodding falling from my mouth one after another.