Soldier

It's 7:00AM, and I'm at my desk. Class will start in 45 minutes.

I was still here, less than twelve hours ago. I was here for the twelve hours before that. When I finally DID leave, I went home, and prepared for Friday's class, packed for the retreat, and finally fell into bed around 10:15PM. I had frantic, nerve-wracking dreams all night, and when my alarm finally sounded at 4:45AM, I woke with a jolt and a gasp. I could barely keep my eyes open on my drive to work.

It's not a good sign when you imagine getting into a car wreck and feel some relief, thinking, "At least then, I could take the day off..."

And it's only Wednesday.

Why this sudden terror and exhaustion? Why this seizure of anxiety after two solid days of teaching? Is this the devil?

I am dreading 6th period. I'm pretty sure they were largely featured in the terrible dreams.

Two thoughts, I'm finding comfort in. One, is that I know that, SOMEHOW, I will make it to the end of the day. 3:00PM will come. And bedtime-- glorious, blissful bedtime will come after that. I might even get to sleep in until, like, 7:00 tomorrow because the kids won't show up at the retreat center until later. Whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed with how much I have to do, it's been a comforting thing to look at the final deadline and say, "SOMEHOW it will all get done. I don't know how, but it will." And it always has. And it will today. I will make it to 3:00PM, and by the time I do, I will have taught five high-school English classes.

Second: this is a little childish, but that is sometimes a pattern with me. And whenever I'm feeling especially knotted up with nerves, it's tremendously helpful to find myself in a moment of silliness. I am picturing myself as a solider. This morning, I am in camo gear, lying on my belly in a trench after a fitful night of sleep. I'm watching the sun rise through a barbed wire coil, and thinking that it's beautiful, and thinking that I need to GEAR UP for the battle today. I've got mud on my face because, word: I am hard core. I can do this. I have weapons. And I can take on 6th period. And besides, there are other hard core soldiers fighting with me.

(Cue bloggies to PRAY.)

Anyway. I will make it. I will survive. This is just teaching! Why am I so freaked out? I know the ending to the story: God wins. All I have to do is love others, and love Him in the meantime. He'll take care of the rest.

Roger that.

Even in a Storm

If the capsizing economy is a sudden nightfall, then today was about seeking out a glow-worm. Several weeks ago, at my grad school's job fair, I was told repeatedly, "We're really not sure if we'll be hiring... We'll take your resume though!" Reports of firings throughout most of the Seattle districts have confirmed that most of those "really not sures" have turned into "really NOTs" and have left me clutching at straws. I asked for this, I guess; I've been praying for a whole lot of closed doors, and one big OPEN one, so that I can be sure next year that I'm right where God wants me. For the first part of that phrase anyway, God is proving Himself to be abundantly faithful.

One of the first school districts I spoke to at the fair-- one which is a two-hour drive and ferry boat away-- mentioned that they MIGHT be expecting openings in Language Arts. The HR woman said, more out of politeness than anything, "Call me if you'd like to come by for a tour!" It was not an open door, nor a ray of light, nor even a fire-fly. But twitchy little glow-worm rumpuses are what I'm chasing after these days, so I made an appointment, arranged to take the day off from student teaching, and hoped for the best.

I had to get up EARLY. Was grumpy, tired, and still glaring at my new hair-cut with a great deal of suspicion. The outfit that I wanted to wear turned out to be dirty. I hadn't looked up ferry schedules. It was POURING outside. I was tempted to just cancel the appointment altogether.

"There's so little point in going, " I told Gramps. "This isn't an interview, this isn't ANYTHING. No one is hiring right now. They'll probably humor me for a half an hour by telling me about their sports teams, and then send me on my way."

"This will end up being one of the best meetings of your LIFE, maybe," Gramps responded.

I stared at the pouring rain out the window. "Maybe I'll miss my ferry and just have to come home."

He laughed. "Well. Maybe you will."

I realized on the freeway that I'd left my cell phone at home. I hadn't been positive of my appointment time-- how was I going to confirm it now? I scowled, and squinted at the freeway signs. Tried to give myself a pep-talk. I would MEET Lori, the HR director of this school district. I would WOW her with my conversational skills and stories of student teaching. I would MAKE an impression, I would GIVE her my resume, and she would MENTION my name once they started looking at potential hirees.

I pulled up to the ferry terminal just as the gate was dropping down. "I don't know if they'll let you on," the ferry man said. "The next one will be in another hour..."
"Oh no!" I said.
He radioed the crew. "Go ahead," he said. "They'll hold it for you."
I raced my car ahead, accidentally blitzing by the ticket-taker man, who waved me down. "Need a pass!" he said, which I thrust at him. "Keep it under 10 mph," he said.
"Okay. Sorry!" I said. "I don't take ferries very often...!"
He grinned in a way that said, "Obviously."

I had told myself that morning, "If nothing else, at least I'll get a ferry ride." Now, I was on the ferry, watching the dock pull away from me in my car's rear-view mirror, and felt sullen. "Maybe I'll just stay in my car," I thought.

Then went upstairs.

There was a young man playing guitar next to one of the windows. I sat a couple seats behind him and watched the undulating water underneath the stormy sky. The window was streaked with rain and was like looking through twisted saran wrap. I relaxed, let the music soothe me, and felt that the world was actually so beautiful after all-- even in a storm.


"At least I got to have a ferry ride," I thought.

I got lost once I'd driven off, on my way to the school-- had to ask directions two different times. Each time I got out of the car, the rain played further tricks on my carefully styled hair. So unkempt. Got to the school finally-- an hour early-- but decided I would check in, confirm my appointment time, and then go to a cafe to journal for the duration of the hour.

The main office sat behind a wall of sliding windows, and one very small door. I peeked at the receptionist through the windows, wondering which one was supposed to slide open for me. She raised her eyebrows and pointed at the door.

So uncool.

"I have an appointment with Lori...?" I said.
"Lori... what?" she asked.
"Um... I left her card in my car, sorry--" I hadn't thought I would need it to just double-check on the appointment. Lori was the HR lady. Wouldn't she just be right there in the office?
"Talk to Ileen," the receptionist said.

After repeating my request to Ileen-- a woman decked out head to toe in turquoise and parrots-- she asked, "Were you supposed to meet her HERE, or at the district office?"
My eyes opened wide in surprise. "Um... honestly, I'm not sure. I'm a Language Arts teacher, and she had mentioned a tour-- I just assumed I should come to the high-school."
Ileen smiled gently and called the district office. "You said you had an appointment at 10?"
"Yes."
"They're saying it's 10:30."
"Oh-- okay."
"They're actually not sure where you should go either, hon," she said. "Lori's in a meeting that can't be interrupted. Do you have a cell phone that we could reach you at?"
"I don't..." I said, weakly. "I accidentally left it at home."

So incompetent.

I tried to help. "I could just wait here...? I have a book."
"Sure!" she said. "Why don't you do that."

So I read. I read for an hour, until 10:00. Checked in with Ileen. "No calls yet from the office... They know you're here though!"
Read 'til 10:30. Checked with Ileen. "Not yet..."
Read 'til 10:50.

Finally, I was abruptly pulled out of the plot of my book when a woman asked me if I was, "Something-something-something intern?"
Thinking that she was mistaking me for one of the school's student teachers, I said, "No! I don't think so...?"
"You're here to tour the school?"
"Oh! Yes!"

Let the record show that I am not used to seeming like SUCH A SPACE CADET.

The director of the Language Arts program took me back to the lunch room and told me that I would observe several of the teachers. "Okay!" I said brightly, while thinking with a wave of disappointment, "What??" I would not even be MEETING Lori. I would only be observing classes, which I've done countless times already this year. The glow worm, at that point, felt officially squashed.

I went back out through the office to get my lunch from my car. I heard Ileen talking on the phone. She glanced up at me as I passed. "Oh yes-- Mary, our L.A. head, claimed her, so I think we're okay."

Claimed me? Am I a wailing baby in a basket on a door-step?

The classes were fine, but dull. I felt a pang of home-sickness for my own students. "I'm missing their POETRY day," I thought to myself. And for what? To be baby-sat at a school three hours away?

Before leaving, I left my resume with a thank-you not for the L.A. department director, and thanked Ileen on my way out.
"Bye Meredith!" I called to the receptionist who had initially so confused me behind her wall of windows.
"Bye Greta!" she said. "I hope we get to see you around!"
My smile couldn't entirely mask my sigh of futility. "Yeah."

So here I am, in a little cafe, trying not to feel yet more discouragement. This is what I will tell myself:

The locals were darling.
I got to read a big chunk of a good book.
I saw non-alternative-normal-high-school-kids, and they were friendly, and funny, and nice.
I found this little cafe, which gave me delicious coffee, and yummy tomato soup.
This district is NOT firing teachers, which means they might just still be looking for a new Language Arts one.
I dropped off a resume with the Language Arts head, and showed UP. Right? Even if I seemed like an air-head, I showed up and showed my interest?
I experienced, maybe, an answered prayer? Even if this entire day boils down to one more rabbit trail leading to one more closed door: I can still trust in Him and the impassable padlocks He gives me.

And: I got a ferry ride.

If nothing else, there was that. I liked that ferry ride.

Well Aware

Yes, I know that our national economy is in what appears to be a free fall.

And yes, I know that our state just cut millions of dollars from education, and that teaching jobs are bleeding out of schools like a dog bite to an artery.

I know also that there will be around 37 displaced Language Arts teachers in the Seattle district alone, and I know that the district and union will be obligated to find jobs for those displaced teachers.

Yes, I'm aware that that means that the first and second year teachers currently working in schools will be "RIF'ed"-- fired-- since they don't have continuing contracts, to make way for the displaced teachers who have more seniority.

And yes, I know that that means I'll be competing for jobs against many, many other young, exuberant, passionate teachers-- who actually have a couple years experience under their belts.

I'm aware that I can sub.

And I also know that the subbing pool will be completed flooded with newly RIF'ed teachers, and other hopeless recent graduates like myself.

I know that, so long as I can get connections in schools, I probably have a good chance at subbing in them.

I also know that, since my school is CLOSING, many of the potential connections that I would have had from my student teaching placement will be washed away like spit in a stream.

And, just for the record, I also know about the Swine Flu.

I know that God has my best interests in mind, and that He has a plan for me, and that if HE wants me to be a teacher, He'll make me a teacher. I know to pray, and I know to hope, and I know to be patient. Even in the face of such dismal circumstances.

I know all these things.

So can we please stop talking about it?