eight years

I start my eighth year of teaching tomorrow, but this year marks ten years of being in a classroom in some form. In the fall of 2003, I took a job at an elementary school in Tallahassee. I had a fresh English lit degree from FSU and had taken a couple of teaching courses, but wasn't convinced it was the right job for me. After all, public speaking terrified me at the time, and I'm not known for my exceptional confidence. I had been planning to be a journalist. I still would like to write for a newspaper or magazine. I have two dream jobs. One would be Terry Gross's job, the other would be to write for The Onion. I recognize both of those are not realistic.

My journalism teacher in high school had advised me not to major in journalism, and I'm grateful for that advice. He recommended English, history, or political science. I minored in history (which seems like a bit of a joke--I just used it as an excuse to take electives like "The New South" and "Humor in America.") Majoring in journalism would have meant going to UF, too.

In 2003, I was engaged to be married the next summer, and took a job because I was waiting on my fiance to finish his degree so we could move to Montana together. I just wanted a job in a school so I could test out the idea of teaching and working in the education world. I got a job as a special ed aide at an elementary school in Tallahassee. It was one of the toughest but most rewarding jobs I've had. I'm realizing as I write this that those kids are mostly through high school by now--one of them would be 21. I was asked to do some odd things in that job, including teaching math to a group of fourth grade boys who all had diagnoses of severe emotional disabilities. I can barely do basic arithmetic without counting on my fingers, so that was a hoot. I worked there for just one school year, and then I was off to Montana to start grad school. My first job in Missoula was also an aide position for a K-8 school.

All in all, though, I enjoyed the work of helping people become better human beings, and seeing myself become a better human in the process. I also realized that there is no more creative endeavor than teaching. As it's 10:20 before the first day of the semester tomorrow, I'm not really sure what I'll do in about 12 hours with my first batch of new students, but I tend to thrive on the last-minute decision making. My best ideas come about 15 minutes before classes start. I don't usually decide what I'm doing before that. I have a tentative plan, but it usually changes several times. I laugh when my students say I'm organized. I've just gotten skilled at appearing organized. And since the most dangerous outcome is a run-in with a jammed copy machine, it's worth it.

The problem with the creativity involved in teaching is that there isn't a final product like there would be in writing music, stories, or films. My audience is mostly people who don't realize or (yet) understand the brainwork that goes before, during, and after each class meeting. While I know the workload will soon pile itself on and I'll be complaining again in about three days, I need my work to keep me sane. My brain is far too bored even with the freedom to read. I need the challenge. It's better for me to recognize that than to feel guilty for being bored when I was staying home with Kincaid. Even then, I was teaching online, but for a school that had a canned curriculum. That was almost worse than not teaching at all.

I'd like to figure a way to sell teaching to more creative types. Sometimes it attracts us, but often it seems to appear to be a scripted kind of job, or one where the curriculum is set, so there's only material to deliver. But teaching is a creative's dream as long as the person isn't motivated only by producing something. I'm finding this especially true at the college level, but even in K-12. Every student is different, every class is different. I'm teaching four sections of the same course, but I can't do the same things with each group. That would be boring.

I hope I'm still teaching in 20 years. It's the sort of job one can never master, and that's why it appeals to me. If anything, I can see myself burning out from the workload, but hopefully that will improve before long.