My brother just got a new job. For our entire life he has said “I don’t think I’d want an office job, I’d need to be doing something.” He’d sit and listen to my dad on work calls and decided it just wasn’t for him. Now, he works WITH my dad, doing the exact same thing. Loves it. Has steady hours, benefits for his new baby and time with his family at night and on weekends.
I’m truly so happy he loves it – he was grappling with the challenge of getting the job and I said it was good to hear him getting excited over this kind of thing. And then he hit me. (figuratively of course). And he said “Yeah, it’s like knowing your whole life you wanted to be an English teacher and then teaching nothing but Debate this year.”
HOLD MY ICE CREAM WHILE I GET ICE FOR THAT BURN.
That’s true. I’ve always been blessed in knowing exactly what I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to be a teacher – when I was in high school I realized that my show was meant for an older audience, so high school it was. English was my favorite. I took a hot minute as a math major due to a heinous teacher incident (#notactuallyherfaultbuti’llblameher). And now I teach a full (ish..) classload of debate. It’s a very cool experience. But it’s also showed me just exactly how our goals can shift and change.
Today I was blessed to tell a student that she had passed the SAT with a high enough score to cover her for the FSA. She SCREAMED and did a victory lap around my room. She jumped up and down with a bunch of expletives that I allowed her (let’s be real, I allow her all the time, she could send me to Paris and back if I had instituted a swear jar at the beginning of the year – but you live and you learn). It was such a great teacher moment. She hugged me and skipped out the door when the bell rang. One less thing on her shoulders that she didn’t know would be there when she moved from New York. I saw her check off one of her goals this morning.
A while back I was awarded Teacher of the Year and all I could think about was “This must be a mistake, I’m super not good enough” – and then my six word memoir was “Teacher of the year, now what?”
14 year old me knew I wanted to be a high school English teacher. But she didn’t know what my goals were past that. I’m still trying to figure them out myself.