Cubelife: The Backstory

Hey Friends - 

Lots of you have been asking about how teaching is going.  Well, it’s not going.  After two years of wrangling 8 year olds, I retired.  Naturally, you’ll protest.  You’ll say you’re sure I was such a good teacher and I seem like I’d be so fun or how could I just give up and become a statistic.  You’ll be surprised, dismayed, saddened.  You’re not the only one.   

Let me tell you, stepping away from teaching was like casting off from a dock I’d been anchored to since I was 7 years old and sailing off into the sunset.  I wanted to be Laura Ingalls Wilder, Anne Shirley, Christy Huddleston and march right into that classroom and ignite the fire of curiosity in the minds of children.  Oh, I was ambitious.  I was idealistic.  I was gung ho, alright.  

And I totally underestimated a few things.  First, I was homeschooled.  I had a great experience, I learned a lot, and I am a socially competent human.  I also have zero experience when it comes to things like fire drills, classroom discipline, and why it’s so important to practice standing in lines.  Second, I think I figured that being an adult would mean something to an 8 year old.  Maybe it does to some, but to others, you’re just a little taller.  They have little respect for authority, and they don’t just learn because you tell them to.  

My first year of teaching, I got hired 3 days before school started.  My family was out of town, so I set up my classroom by myself, survived meet the teacher night, and jumped right in.  The staff was kind and welcoming, and gave me help whenever I asked for it.  I had a class full of spark plugs, just the way I like them.  Unfortunately, I knew nothing about classroom management for a room full of spark plugs, writing lesson plans for smarty pants spark plugs and struggling spark plugs.  I didn’t know how to invent a math curriculum or work with an outdated reading one… so I improvised.  

We jump roped our times tables.  We played red light/green light with parts of speech.  I supplemented with BrainPop Jr videos.  I brought in guest speakers.  My first year wasn’t without its moments of brilliance.  Unfortunately, my data wasn’t grow-y enough.  My students weren’t well behaved.  Oh, they loved me alright, but they were stinkers.  Because I was a late hire, I only had a 1 year contract.  

My second year of teaching was not much different.  Great staff.  Supportive parents.  Just as many stinkers.  I loved every last one of them.  I still failed at classroom management.  I still had a hard time figuring out how to challenge a room of 28 very different people.  I still had a few moments of brilliance.  Data?  Still not grow-y enough.  My kids weren’t succeeding, and I couldn’t handle it because I knew it was my own darn fault.  

Now, I’m not stupid, and I feel like I have to toss that out there because I feel stupid every time I tell this story.  I’m sure I could have buried myself in pinterest and teachertube videos and figured out a 12 step plan to classroom recovery.  I was already working 8-12 hour days trying to survive… on top of lots of other normal life activities.  

It’s normal to have a hard 3-5 years, they kept saying.  I get that.  I didn’t expect it to be easy.  This was a little more than “not easy”.  This was soul scathing, deep seated dread, both that my kids weren’t achieving their goals, and that I could be abandoning what I thought was my big whopping life calling.  

What if I was a QUITTER.  What if I was an even worse - FAILURE. 

But what if… those were growing years.  What if it’s OK that I spent four years getting an education degree and only taught for two years.  What if it’s OK that I spent two years trying and decided I wanted to try something else.  What if deciding to be in sales instead of teaching was a preference choice instead of a moral choice.  What if those two years with those 50 kids were to teach me about asking for help and my own insecurities and success and God’s love for kids.

There were an awful lot of what ifs in those months while I was making this decision, and oh boy, I am not a girl who likes a whole lot of limbo.  I like black and white.  This is right or it isn’t.  Teaching was hard.  Not knowing was hard too.  I still don’t really know all the answers.  Sometimes [transparent moment] I wonder if God’s disappointed that I’m not in the trenches like my super cool teacher brother.  I wonder if I could have become a great teacher if I’d just stuck it out and read some good ole Harry Wong over the summer.  

But those aren’t really the thoughts I want to have about teaching.  I do want to remember the amazing teachers I met, and the ways they love kids faithfully every day.  I want to remember the way veteran teachers are the best sharers and givers around.  I want to remember knee high hugs and learning celebrations and how much I love kids.  I want to be open to teaching if the right situation comes along.  I want to encourage you that sometimes you need a change, and sometimes you need to stay put, and sometimes figuring that out is hard and takes a whole lot of praying.  

Well, this kind of turned into a teachery post instead of an update on what I’m doing now, but coming soon - Cubelife: the corporate caper.

Much love,

Little Miss Sunshine