I used to think that I needed to be extraordinary. When I was young, I thought I might be an oceanographer (even though I had never seen the ocean), or an archaeologist (even though I had never seen any bones), or a broadcast journalist (even though I was terrible on camera), or....bear with me....a cocktail waitress. I wanted to be many things, but mostly I did NOT want to be ordinary.
Throughout high school, I was the small town do it all kind of kid - sports, drama, music - even photo club (though I never took any pictures.)
I did NOT want to be ordinary. I went to college and became one in a sea of valedictorians, athletes, and actors. I still wanted to pursue broadcast journalism and theatre. I soon found myself to be.....very ordinary. I didn't fit in with the "theatre folk," as they called themselves. I loved my BB team, but wasn't quite in the upper echelon that I aspired to be. I enjoyed my classes, but couldn't find my niche.
All my life, I had desired to leave my small town life with my mail carrier dad and my educator mom and be something GREAT!
And so, I came home after my freshman year, taught swimming lessons and became somewhat confused. I liked teaching kids. I was good at it. The kids responded to me. I did NOT want to be a teacher. I did NOT want to be ORDINARY.
So, I returned to college. I continued in my Speech Communication Theatre Arts track, and I continued to feel out of place. Finally....I stopped trying to be rich, famous and extraordinary. I decided to be.....extraordinarily ordinary.
I met with my adviser, switched my major to elementary education with a coaching endorsement and carried on.
This is not to say that there has not been doubt and disappointment along the way. I enjoyed my practicums (except kindergarten) and was challenged by my student teaching and fell in love with coaching.
But, I truly thought I would teach and coach for a few years and then....do something extraordinary. I really have no idea what I thought I might do. Teach at the college level? Perhaps. But, really, I don't know what else I would do. When you earn a degree in business, the whole world of business is open to you. When you earn a degree in education, it can be somewhat....well...narrow.
What ended up happening is that I applied for and was accepted into a graduate fellowship program through Winona State University and Rochester Public Schools. I taught for one year, took grad classes at the same time and earned my MS degree and a year of experience.
My first year of teaching was HARD. Harder than I ever imagined it would be. Harder, I think, than some of my cohorts in the fellowship program. I don't think I was ill prepared, just incredibly idealistic and placed in a less than desirable situation. The school I was in had not planned on a fellow. So, I ended up with some really, really, really, challenging students.
After the first day of school, all of my cohorts were gushing about what an awesome experience it had been and how they just KNEW this was where they were supposed to be. I went home and called my mom and cried about how awful it was.
The year progressed and in October I was in a fairly severe car accident where I broke my pelvis and had an injury to my neck which required crutches and 6 weeks in a hard cervical collar. Not an ideal way to begin a teaching career...especially with a challenging class.
Still, I persevered. And, looking back, I dared to do things in that first year that I never attempted again. I did things and attempted thing because I didn't know any better. Or maybe because I did know better, but did it anyway. I finished my year, was granted an interview with Rochester, was not hired and carried on.
I applied all over the place...Nebraska, Iowa, Washington State, Texas, all over the metro area...literally, for every position I could find. I had one interview in Worthington, Minnesota. It was a great interview and I learned a lot. When I didn't get the job, I especially learned that Worthington was not where I needed to continue my career.
August arrived. My lease was almost up. Matt and I decided that I would continue to teach, but in a subbing positions and keep looking for a permanent position. On August 20th, a former teacher and coach of mine pulled some strings and got me an interview...in an EBD Day Treatment just up the road. Wow. Really? Could I do it? Well, even if I didn't think I could, I interviewed like it would be a cake walk.
August 21st I was hired. I signed my first teaching contract and carried on. For three years I taught at the day treatment in the middle of a corn field. I endured insults from students, physical pain from students, wonderful connections with students and staff, an incredible growth in knowledge and perspective, and experienced joy in unknown and unexpected situations. I took graduate classes to get my Special Education provisional license, got married, and started coaching in Pine Island, a nearby town.
Junior High Track and Field, Junior High Basketball...every day I would leave my teaching job and head south to connect with student athletes, albeit junior high boy student athletes. By this time, Matt had begun a full time teaching position in Rochester and also been hired to coach in Pine Island. In the spring of my second year of coaching, a teaching position opened up. The elementary principal's wife had worked closely with my mom and I had a second connection which secured me an interview.
Interviewing again, I carried on and was hired. That fall, I started teaching third grade and realized just how much the needs of my day treatment students had weighed on me. Those years in the day treatment continued to serve me well with the experiences of dealing with difficult students, students with lots of baggage, parents who need help and/or perspective, and knowing when and how to communicate the needs of special education or potential special education students to other teachers and to parents.
The path of my teaching career could be repeated with many, many educators I know. But, my path is mine alone. It is ordinary to many, crazy to some, but extraordinary? Hardly. I often think about going back to my supposed five year high school reunion. Some friends said, "Amy, you could have been anything, making tons of money, going places...and you're what?! A teacher?!"
Like being a teacher is ordinary? After one year in Rochester, three years in a day treatment, eight years in 3rd grade, one year in 2nd grade, and seven years in 6th grade, I think it is safe to say that teaching is anything but ordinary. In fact, I love my job more than most. And I think that that is extraordinary.
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