The Me's I Could Have Been

Sometimes I wonder how the "History Teacher" Me won-out. I don't remember a gigantic earth-shaking moment when I just *knew* being a teacher was my destiny. There's lots of things I think I could enjoy as a career instead. I don't think that diminishes the choice I did make to become a teacher, it just sheds light on more facets of my character.

I remember when I was younger I would read stories about outstanding young people that were super smart, or an Olympic athlete, or climbing Mount Everest when they were 10. I remember being anxious because I was running out of time to be special for being young and doing something amazing. Soon whatever I did wouldn't be extraordinary anymore; it'd just be within the norm. I never became a famous author or actress before I was 12, but I did plant the seeds of many of my most favorite parts of me during those years.

Author - This was the first career I remember desiring. I realized it probably wasn't the most viable after I started dozens of stories but got so tired I couldn't get to my great climatic idea fast enough that I gave up after a few pages.

Dancer - This is one concept I haven't thought seriously about in some time, but when I was growing up I danced all the time. I took several types of dance classes like jazz, tap, ballet, and gymnastics over 10 years. I still love dancing after all this time, but I quit the classes because we weren't learning anything new -- just rearranging old steps into new dances, and it got boring. I knew I was good, partly because I picked up on new things quickly, but I didn't put in the practice here I would have needed to be great.

Actress - I'm still not sure how this part of me came into being. My freshman year of high school, I remember walking by the posters for the Spring Musical and feeling an instant wave of fear. But by the next year, I insisted that I wanted to do community theater, and I started auditioning for all musicals and plays at school. It was glorious once I got into it!

Musician - There was a time that I was very into playing music; I was extremely involved in band, took a Music Theory class, and had even taken a lesson or two on multiple instruments. I knew I was good, but I also knew I also wasn't spectacular -- I didn't have the drive to practice like I needed. I was content with my natural skill and didn't push myself further. I did always think it would be amazingly awesome to be a player on movie soundtracks, though.

Photographer - For a while I was very into photography and tried to take "artsy" photographs of everything. Then everybody was into photography, and now the whole world is into photography thanks to instagram, so it seemed uncool to pretend I was really amazing at it. I even jobshadowed a photographer in high school.

Journalist/Magazine Writer - This was something I never considered until entering Journalism class my Junior year of high school. (I only chose it over Yearbook because everyone knew the Yearbook staff was kindof snobby... and you had to walk across the street to get to their class.) I ended up absolutely loving it, especially designing layouts. I got pretty adept at Adobe Indesign, and I remember working on a layout and the rest of the staff standing behind me saying it was awesome. They entered one of them into a contest.... hmmm, I never heard anything else about that contest, now that I think about it.

Personal Assistant - I never considered this career until a friend in Advertising commented that I would make a good one, because I often can anticipate people's needs and fill them ahead of time. I call it good Mom skills. Friends have also told me that I can word things very tactfully, and would often come to me to ask an authority figure for something. (This seems to be a skill that turns itself on and off... because I know I am definitely not always tactful.) I can also write very professional letters. One time for a club in high school, I wrote a letter to a business asking for a monetary contribution, and one teacher made me bring it to her to check before I sent it out. She read it over expecting it to be awful and was like, "... Oh. That looks good."

Full-time Blogger/DIY Maven - This is more of a pipe dream, since obviously I cannot write blog posts regularly to save my life. But I like the idea of being a stay-at-home mom and using that time to have a regular outlet for my creative side. I like the idea of being connected to other women and feeling that I could help or inspire them in some way. I wish I had more qualifications to become an awesome blogger in some area of design or crafts. (Secret: I don't consider myself creative, just a great piggy-backer! I borrow ideas I see and just tweak them a little.)

I guess the "teacher me" developed in the background of all the years of trying on those other personas. From elementary school teachers would ask me to lead other students or help them one-on-one. I always enjoyed learning and creating, and somehow in high school I just knew I wanted to be a teacher.

In many of my teaching interviews, people have asked me why I wanted to be a history teacher specifically. I have come up with several answers to that question, but none of them really seemed to resonate with me. Over the past year I have reflected on that dilemma, and have come to the conclusion that it is not necessarily history itself that I love; it is teaching. History is something I feel comfortable with, but feels somewhat like only a vehicle for my real passion. At first, I felt bad for that, feeling like I wasn't dedicated enough to history itself to teach students well. But I have found that my passion for teaching picks up the slack in my passion for history, so hopefully it translates into something great for students. Instead of looking at this revelation as a hindrance, I have come to view it as an open door to feeling successful at whatever teaching opportunities may come to me in the future, either in my family, church, or community.

Looking back on these pieces of me makes me somewhat disappointed in myself for never working hard enough at any of those things to be really good, but then I consider the work I've done to become a good teacher, and I feel like I have accomplished something with hard work in my life after all. (With much more hard work to come!)

Looking for a Fence

In my introduction to teaching class last block, we read an article published in Boy's Life or The Friend or something about how a man's cattle always walked around trying to find where the fence was whenever they were put in a new pen or field. If there was no fence, the cattle would wander off and... something bad would happen to them. But once they found the fence (if there was one), they were content to stay inside it.

We discussed how students would push to find the fence in our classroom, but once they knew where it was, they would be content to live in it. I understood the concept, but found it hard to fathom how exactly those crazier kids would be ecstatic to be sitting in silence in my room one day.

Then I remembered one week of my substitute teaching at Tussing Elementary last spring. The kindergarten kids could not keep their bottoms in their seats even if I had put glue on their pants (which I didn't, that was just a simile so you could get an idea of the gravity of the situation). Finally I took a little whiteboard with me to our table and wrote everyone's name on it. I didn't tell them what it was for, but once the first kid released his bottom from the confines of the seat, I put a tally by his name. The kids were like "what is that for??!?!?!" I told them that I would put a mark down for every time their bottom wasn't in the chair, and if they got five marks, they wouldn't get their check on the treasure box chart for the day. Soon they got the idea and for the next few days I used it they sat in their seats very well. It worked so well that I didn't bring out the board a few days later. Imagine my surprise when one of the girls asked, "Can we do the chart for if we're sitting down again?"

As I thought about those two classes more the past few days, it hit me like an apple on the head that I am exactly the same way. I'm a rule follower. I'm a stickler all the way. I love directions and rubrics and expectations so I know exactly what I can do. In that way, perhaps I form too much of a fence around myself, one which makes it so I can only stand up and have no room to walk around in. The reason I say that is because I go crazy making decisions for myself. When there's no guidelines or a clear right and wrong choice and no visible fence, decisions are so hard! As a teenager I begged Mom & Dad to "give me a fence" and just tell me what to do. If they set the dimensions of my fence for me, I was more than happy to roam around in whatever decision they told me to make. BUT my parents must be super smart about those things, because they'd always tell me I needed to figure it out for myself.

One small instance I remember of this is when I asked my mom how to spell "summer" as a kid.
"How do you think it's spelled?" she asked.
"... with two m's?" I hesitated.
"That's right!"

Spelling isn't really that big of a deal, but even from a young age my parents wanted me to find and form my own fence within the larger fence they had set as my mother and father and followers of the gospel. They showed me the importance of building just the right fence; not too small, as I often made mine and paralyzed myself in person decision making, but not too big as to escape the gospel fence. To each, their own fence. It really does feel better when you know where it is.

The Classroom

Observing many different schools in my Intro to Teaching class has made me think about lots of things, but especially one thing this week: decorating my classroom. Come on, it has to look awesome and inviting and make history look cool, right??

I've been thinking about some things I might use...


curtains... for the windows? hahaha



make my own American flag...



Civil War memorabilia...



globes, painted for use as a chalkboard or not...



a giant world map, either vinyl or painted on something first.