Giving up my dream isn't going to be easy. But. Finding the right job is going to be impossible, isn't it?
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Living the Life of Holly |
Column # 191: From
Dream to Job |
Giving up my dream isn't going to be easy. But. Finding the right job is going to be impossible, isn't it? |
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Living the Life of Holly “The right job will come along.” Stella said. “Why don’t you apply yourself by filling out a few applications?” “Yeah.” I agreed. “But. I don't want a job. I want to keep writing.” “You need money.” “Ok.” I said. “But. I don’t just want any old job. I want the right teaching position. How on Earth am I ever going to find that?” “Just apply yourself. Do some research….” I sipped my tea. “Yeah. But. Researching will cut into my writing time. Why can’t the right job find me?” “Yeah. Good luck.” I sat back in my chair, sipped my peppermint tea and scanned the tea house. There was an assortment of interesting people scattered around. Maybe I should apply to work here? You know. For the story value. Bet I’d hear some great stuff. Um. No. I need health insurance. Stella reached for her muffin. “Maybe you should work here. Bet you’d meet some interesting people.” “Nah.” I said. “You’re all the interest I need.” Just then a friend of Stella’s pulled out a chair and sat down. She held up her coffee mug, as if to make a toast, and said “I just got a job.” “Congratulations.” We said, raising our tea cups. “I’m the new principal of an elementary school.” I looked at Stella. Oh, man. I’d have to give Principal my phone number before she left. “The only problem.” Principal continued “Is that I have to hire five new teachers.” Stella looked at me and raised her mug. I smiled as my heart raced. Stella had talked about this friend and what a dynamic principal she was. She had taken a few years away from education as I had done. I would love to work for her. The principal looked at us. “Hiring five teachers is going to be tough.” I raised my eyebrows and my tea cup to Stella, which made her laugh. “And.” Principal continued. “I need to hire a special education teacher. Now. Where on earth do you find a special education teacher?” I nonchalantly took a sip of my tea. Unfortunately swallowing that sip wasn’t easy. So much for making a good first impression. So much for breathing without coughing. Stella ignored my choking gasps for air. “Actually Holly is a special education teacher, an amazing one at that. She’ll be looking for a position next fall.” Principal brightened. “You’re a special education teacher looking for a job?” Yeah. She took my phone number and a few weeks later I was invited in to her elementary school for an interview and was offered the job. I spent June and July reveling in the miracle of how my job found me as I immersed myself in writing project after writing project. In August I showed up for my first day of work. I tried to look perky, but I was dragging my feet. Back in the classroom again. Wasn’t that a bad country song? I had spent the last two years writing all day. My days spent following that dream were finished. Sure, I was happy to be working with children again. But. Now I had a schedule. And I would have to dress a certain way. And there would be lists of expectations I had to follow. And I would have to ask permission to do anything related to my job. And I would have hours of schoolwork each night that would keep me from my love of writing. I walked into my new elementary school’s office. The secretary gave me my caseload. These would be the students I would pull out of their regular classrooms to work with in my special education classroom when school started next week. I scanned the list quickly. “Isn’t there another page?” I asked, turning the sheet over. I knew they would be impressed that I had caught a mistake so early in my position. “No.” She said. “You have sixteen students in your charge. They are fourth, fifth and sixth graders who will come to you for reading and writing.” “Are you sure?” How could that be? Only sixteen students? (“Stop.” Voice said. You know it doesn’t matter if you have sixteen students or forty students. You will spend too much time on your job. You will become obsessed with teaching, again, and forget about your dream of writing. You love to write. Can you really let yourself give that up? Walk out of here now.”) “We’re sure.” Secretary looked me over. “Ok.” I said. “So I only have to write Individual Educational Plans for sixteen students? Great! And which file drawer do the IEPs go into when I’m done writing them?” “You give them to me, and we have a technician come in and file them.” “Are you kidding?” I laughed. “I don’t file my own work?” (“This is crazy.” Voice said. “Holly. Listen to yourself. You’re acting like filing a bit of paperwork under a student’s name is a big deal. It isn’t and you know it. What is a big deal is that you are so willing to walk away from what matters to you the most. Writing. Why are you giving up? Why have you given in?”) “No. You most certainly do not file your own work.” The secretary frowned. “We have technicians to do that for you. You are a teacher, not a technician.” Man. Less than half the paperwork, and no filing? Um. Ok. I can go with the flow. (“No you can’t.” Voice argued. “And you know it. You’ll over do it. You’ll think about your job twenty-four hours a day. You won’t have time to write. Your writing vein will dry up.”) Principal walked in to the office. “Hi Holly. We’re glad you’re here.” “Me too.” I smiled. (“Walk out. Now.” Voice said. “This isn’t your dream. Your dream is to write. Why drop it now? Ask everyone you know to GIVE you one thousand dollars. Not a loan. A gift. They would all do it. You know they would. Gift you with money so you can finish your dream. This last publisher fell through at the last minute. Now you need time to find the right publisher. Why wait? Leave. NOW.) The secretary handed me another form. “Here are the students’ minutes.” “Do you mean their hours?” I asked, referring to the amount of time each student would be spending in my classroom each week. (“Don’t you see?” Voice asked. “This job is going to take all of your time. There is a lot you have to learn and even more you’ll have to relearn. Teaching takes all of you. It eats your mind and your soul. You won’t have time to write. Do you hear me? You won’t have the time to write. Walk out of here right now.”) The secretary laughed. “Actually, we go by minutes in this school district, not hours.” I gave a long sigh with a half smile. I won’t be able to write all day. And I can’t travel at whim. And no more rollerblading in the heat of the day. Come on! I only have sixteen students and no filing. And I’ll have full health insurance. And this district pays twenty percent more than my last school district paid. Twenty percent more! (“Stop.” The voice cried. “You’re trying to talk yourself into a job. You know you love teaching. You know the students need you. You know you can help them through their learning disabilities. But. That isn’t what’s important here. When are you going to help yourself? When are you going to care about you? When are you going to put yourself and your dreams first?”) I commanded Voice to stay far away. I needed money. I needed health insurance. I pushed Voice into a tunnel, deep down inside. I would have less students. And I wouldn’t have to do any filing. And they seemed to want me here. That was worth a lot. They wanted me here. And look at how the job found me. That was certainly worth it’s weight in gold. I was moving from my dream to a dreamy job. I could take that. I smiled big. “Ok. I’ll have to learn to drop the ‘hours’ from my vocabulary. But. I’m guessing I can learn your language.” Principal laughed. “Don’t worry. It won’t take long. And we’re looking forward to the writing classes you’re going to be teaching to our students.” (Voice untangled itself from the dark tunnel. “Hey. Holly. Did somebody say writing?”) or Click here to go to Current Columns to pick another column. Or perhaps you would like to go to Column Finder by Subject to choose your next column about dating, or epilepsy or friends... you choose! Don't miss out! Sign up to receive a free copy of Holly's column via e-mail each week. (All e-mail addresses are private... NEVER, EVER shared.) Or send a blank e-mail to Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com Subject: Subscribe Me. Comment on this column in The Forum Or Send Holly your comments. Tell her what you really think! Your comments might be published on her website, or in her weekly Yahoo Group e-mail. Send Comments Wanna vote for your favorite column? Fan's favorite column picks will be added to the Fan's Favorite Five page. Send your pick for your favorite here. 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