For the first time I really felt the protective desire it is to be a parent.
Now keep in mind I'm 26, engaged, and very not pregnant or currently the mother of any sort of child.
But I have 9 kids.
Each of them with their own story.
Their own horribly, beautifully, tragically, wonderfully, amazing story.
Each of them with their own learning deficits.
Their own inhibiting, creative, out of the box, frustratingly, unique deficit that allows them to see the world in a different way. A deficit that tests the limits and shows that students aren't meant to fit into the cookie cutter shapes of education that so wrongfully pierce the dough that are these learners.
As strong as each of my students tries to be, they are all, in some way fragile.
Fragile like the crystal vase you saw in the store that caused your mom to constantly remind you of how careful you needed be. The vase that, when taken out of the box filled with packing peanuts, was wrapped ever so carefully in bubble wrap.
Bubble wrap.
Sometimes I wish I could wrap my kids in bubble wrap. That way I could protect them from any outside force that would prevent them from breaking.
But I can't.
Like the vase, sometimes these kids will break and all I can do is be there to help pick up the pieces.
Friday, January 15, 2016
Friday, January 1, 2016
Sshhh...This is a Library
I think one of the more intimidating aspects of writing in a blog is, well, writing. What does that mean? I guess I'm not 100% sure. It's just something about seeing the blank document in front of my face and my brain suddenly going blank. Or perhaps the thoughts of, What if they don't like what I write? What if they don't agree with me? What if....Then I remind myself that this is the internet and hardly anyone agrees with anybody (commence debate about how that's not true in 3...2...1...you just had a disagreement with me about not disagreeing. It's like disagreement-ception). So here we go.
For the first time in a while I'm writing this post from a place other than my own personal space. At a sea of library computers I sit as I listen to the voices of males in their late teens to early 20's (maybe later, I've gotten to the point of having a hard time deciphering people's ages...says the woman in her late twenties who can still pass as a high school student) make exploding noises as they fist bump with their headphones on. Why the change of scenery? Well, let me tell you. With my laptop slowing due to age, and my tablet keyboard awaiting me at my parents' house (feel free to make any sort of #firstworldproblem remark you like...it really is a minute issue. Did I just hashtag in a blog? Someone please stop me.) I figured using my outside resources would be my best bet and I can do anything but complain. For the library in itself is almost like a different world. The most interesting of humans reside in this public building.
If you've read any of my non-education related posts before, you'll find that observation is one of my most beloved past times. The human race fascinates me with all of our quirks, gimmicks, and relatively beautiful weirdness. Our desires, emotions, judgments, and beliefs are what set us apart from animals ("But Michelle, Animals have feelings too!" I recognize that...but that's a discussion for a different time). As I peek over the wide screen of my PC, four teenagers walk across the room. Two styling bright, pink hair with part of their heads shaved. To me, I see this as a way of expression. I love it when people use the canvas of their bodies for art such as this.
My eyes pan to the 75+ year old man quietly reading a magazine at the table with his cane propped ever so gently against his side. He looks up, furrows his brow a bit, and watches. Perhaps he's uncertain as to why anyone would choose such a style. Perhaps the girls remind him of his granddaughter who sports the same look. Or perhaps he longs to have hair like that on his nearly bald head. It's not my place to judge, but I suppose the best thing I can say is that there's clearly a generation gap.
Those things are funny, generation gaps that its. They can create both a a sense of interest as well as blindness. With the changes in society and the advances in technology those gaps are only going to widen.
I believe a lot of it has to do with the whole nature and nurture ordeal. Personally, I believe nature is secondary to that of nurture. Yes we all have specific traits that we're born with, but how those traits are brought about have to do with the way we're raised. (Now remember, I'm not a specialist in this area, merely an observer.) I'll use the simple example of make-up. If you've ever met me, you'll know that about 90% of the time I keep a natural face. Natural as in no make-up (granted, I also have extremely sensitive facial skin...but still). I was raised in a home where make-up was not considered a priority. If you want to wear it great, if not that's great too. Now, if I was raised in a home where it was considered taboo to go outside without a painted face, well, that would be a whole different issue. The idea that, in order to be socially accepted, my eyes must be lined and my face must be powdered would be instilled in me and habits would be formed. There of course are also exceptions to every theory. Not everyone will follow the way that they have been nurtured growing up. I will raise my future children differently than my parents raised me and my children will raise my grandchildren differently than I raised them. We're all humans who can make their own choices, we're not robots.
Well, that when in an unexpectedly fantastic direction.
For the first time in a while I'm writing this post from a place other than my own personal space. At a sea of library computers I sit as I listen to the voices of males in their late teens to early 20's (maybe later, I've gotten to the point of having a hard time deciphering people's ages...says the woman in her late twenties who can still pass as a high school student) make exploding noises as they fist bump with their headphones on. Why the change of scenery? Well, let me tell you. With my laptop slowing due to age, and my tablet keyboard awaiting me at my parents' house (feel free to make any sort of #firstworldproblem remark you like...it really is a minute issue. Did I just hashtag in a blog? Someone please stop me.) I figured using my outside resources would be my best bet and I can do anything but complain. For the library in itself is almost like a different world. The most interesting of humans reside in this public building.
If you've read any of my non-education related posts before, you'll find that observation is one of my most beloved past times. The human race fascinates me with all of our quirks, gimmicks, and relatively beautiful weirdness. Our desires, emotions, judgments, and beliefs are what set us apart from animals ("But Michelle, Animals have feelings too!" I recognize that...but that's a discussion for a different time). As I peek over the wide screen of my PC, four teenagers walk across the room. Two styling bright, pink hair with part of their heads shaved. To me, I see this as a way of expression. I love it when people use the canvas of their bodies for art such as this.
My eyes pan to the 75+ year old man quietly reading a magazine at the table with his cane propped ever so gently against his side. He looks up, furrows his brow a bit, and watches. Perhaps he's uncertain as to why anyone would choose such a style. Perhaps the girls remind him of his granddaughter who sports the same look. Or perhaps he longs to have hair like that on his nearly bald head. It's not my place to judge, but I suppose the best thing I can say is that there's clearly a generation gap.
Those things are funny, generation gaps that its. They can create both a a sense of interest as well as blindness. With the changes in society and the advances in technology those gaps are only going to widen.
I believe a lot of it has to do with the whole nature and nurture ordeal. Personally, I believe nature is secondary to that of nurture. Yes we all have specific traits that we're born with, but how those traits are brought about have to do with the way we're raised. (Now remember, I'm not a specialist in this area, merely an observer.) I'll use the simple example of make-up. If you've ever met me, you'll know that about 90% of the time I keep a natural face. Natural as in no make-up (granted, I also have extremely sensitive facial skin...but still). I was raised in a home where make-up was not considered a priority. If you want to wear it great, if not that's great too. Now, if I was raised in a home where it was considered taboo to go outside without a painted face, well, that would be a whole different issue. The idea that, in order to be socially accepted, my eyes must be lined and my face must be powdered would be instilled in me and habits would be formed. There of course are also exceptions to every theory. Not everyone will follow the way that they have been nurtured growing up. I will raise my future children differently than my parents raised me and my children will raise my grandchildren differently than I raised them. We're all humans who can make their own choices, we're not robots.
Well, that when in an unexpectedly fantastic direction.
No two people have the same way of thinking or the same approach to life. Every person has a different perspective about life and its problems. We all take things differently and we are all affected at different levels. We can't expect others to understand us. Some things that may not hurt one person could be enough to break another.
-Neena Gupta
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Ready or Not
The beginning of the school year has always hit an interesting note for me.
Not to say that I don't like it, it's actually kind of an adrenaline rush. Students have an overflowing amount of anticipation. Whether or not it comes from reuniting with friends, nerves about classes, teachers, what have you...a sense of calm seems absent on the first day of school. This over looming shadow of uncertain excitement creeps its way into the feelings of teachers as well. What will my class be like? Will I have so-and-so? Did I plan enough? What do I do on the first day? Am I ready?
Am I ready?
Am
I
Ready
?
As an educational therapist, it's obvious that I have stepped away from the lifestyle of a classroom teacher. My office is soon to, once again, become my second home and I look forward to working with my students one-on-one. However, this question couldn't have come up more often this past week. The hours seemed to slip away as I typed countless emails, wrote up paperwork, and simply made time to breathe. That being said, what does it mean to be...ready?
I suppose that is a relative question. It's kind of like asking, what is normal? Normalcy is dependent on the person. What's normal for me is extremely foreign to someone who lives a life different than my own. In this same way, readiness is proven based on a person's necessary preparation for his or her own journey. It can range from traveling to a different country or simply embarking on a new school year. (Simply? Hah! I say that like it's an easy feat.)
In reality though, not matter how prepared we may think we are...we will never be ready. On paper everything may look put together, but I guarantee anything and everything may and or will pop-up.
But that's ok.
We're human.
If our lives followed everything exactly, there would be nothing to build from and no lessons to learn.
Even in the education field it's ok to make mistakes and disprove the belief that we have to be perfect. It's ok to step out of our glasshouses and admit that we're wrong. I've found that students are able to relate better to teachers who think differently and break the mold of the "perfect" teacher. (Or what one person might think said educator might be.) Students, no matter how old they are, are smart enough to know when you're trying to be something that you're not.
As we begin another chapter of school remember...
Our jobs bring meaning
Our jobs bring growth
Our jobs bring influence
Most importantly, our jobs aren't about us...they're about the students.
No matter how ready we (or they) are.
Not to say that I don't like it, it's actually kind of an adrenaline rush. Students have an overflowing amount of anticipation. Whether or not it comes from reuniting with friends, nerves about classes, teachers, what have you...a sense of calm seems absent on the first day of school. This over looming shadow of uncertain excitement creeps its way into the feelings of teachers as well. What will my class be like? Will I have so-and-so? Did I plan enough? What do I do on the first day? Am I ready?
Am I ready?
Am
I
Ready
?
As an educational therapist, it's obvious that I have stepped away from the lifestyle of a classroom teacher. My office is soon to, once again, become my second home and I look forward to working with my students one-on-one. However, this question couldn't have come up more often this past week. The hours seemed to slip away as I typed countless emails, wrote up paperwork, and simply made time to breathe. That being said, what does it mean to be...ready?
I suppose that is a relative question. It's kind of like asking, what is normal? Normalcy is dependent on the person. What's normal for me is extremely foreign to someone who lives a life different than my own. In this same way, readiness is proven based on a person's necessary preparation for his or her own journey. It can range from traveling to a different country or simply embarking on a new school year. (Simply? Hah! I say that like it's an easy feat.)
In reality though, not matter how prepared we may think we are...we will never be ready. On paper everything may look put together, but I guarantee anything and everything may and or will pop-up.
But that's ok.
We're human.
If our lives followed everything exactly, there would be nothing to build from and no lessons to learn.
Even in the education field it's ok to make mistakes and disprove the belief that we have to be perfect. It's ok to step out of our glasshouses and admit that we're wrong. I've found that students are able to relate better to teachers who think differently and break the mold of the "perfect" teacher. (Or what one person might think said educator might be.) Students, no matter how old they are, are smart enough to know when you're trying to be something that you're not.
As we begin another chapter of school remember...
Our jobs bring meaning
Our jobs bring growth
Our jobs bring influence
Most importantly, our jobs aren't about us...they're about the students.
No matter how ready we (or they) are.
"Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants"
-Deuteronomy 32:2
Friday, July 10, 2015
[You Are] More Precious than Rubies
As I was getting ready for bed this evening I took a long look in the mirror. Pressing my hands against my abdomen, I attempted to flatten out the small amount of pudge that stuck out from what would otherwise be a completely thin figure. Inside my head I pictured the endless number of movie stars, singers, and basically any media involved female whose figure appeared almost breakable due to their overly petite size. I took my hands off of my body and and let my stomach relax. For, unlike (many...I guess not all of) them, I am healthy, happy, and not forced to be a specific size.
I think for a lot of women, including myself, physical appearance is something that we are constantly aware of. Such awareness can be both good and bad. I find fashion to be an artistic outlet and enjoy piecing different styles together. Rarely will a day go by where over-sized earrings don't hang from the sides of my head. However, I specifically remember that a pressure to beautiful became most evident when I played Barbies with my sister as a child. Looking at the Doll's smooth plastic figure, clear complexion, and painted face made me wonder why I didn't look like that. In my mind, my tomboyish self would never come close to the beauty that was portrayed in this inanimate object.
What's wrong with this picture?
Now am I saying that Mattel should be run out of business for putting unrealistic expectations of physical beauty on an 8 year old? Well, no, that's not really a rant I want to get into right now. I do believe that as a society we really need to think about how we portray beauty. When did we get to the point of deciding that over-sized breasts and backsides, complimented with a tiny waste, was the most desirable figure?
According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, 14.6 million cosmetic surgeries happen a year. Keep in mind, many of those are probably for reasons other than "self-improvement", but still. All of this because of an imperfect idea of perfect beauty. Knowing that one's body will never be good enough.
1 Peter 3:3-4 states
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.
Inner beauty.
Inner
Beauty
What a concept.
In all honesty everyone will eventually become physically "ugly" (or what the world might it find to be), it's inevitable. There is no amount of Botox, make-up, implants, creams, or nip-tucks will save you from aging. Instead, focus on how to be a light to others and let your inner beauty overcome that of the outer. I have found that the most beautiful people I've met aren't those who look magazine cover worthy, but have a spirit that radiates the love for those around them.
God has given everyone the ability to show compassion, care, and love. So use it.
I think for a lot of women, including myself, physical appearance is something that we are constantly aware of. Such awareness can be both good and bad. I find fashion to be an artistic outlet and enjoy piecing different styles together. Rarely will a day go by where over-sized earrings don't hang from the sides of my head. However, I specifically remember that a pressure to beautiful became most evident when I played Barbies with my sister as a child. Looking at the Doll's smooth plastic figure, clear complexion, and painted face made me wonder why I didn't look like that. In my mind, my tomboyish self would never come close to the beauty that was portrayed in this inanimate object.
What's wrong with this picture?
Now am I saying that Mattel should be run out of business for putting unrealistic expectations of physical beauty on an 8 year old? Well, no, that's not really a rant I want to get into right now. I do believe that as a society we really need to think about how we portray beauty. When did we get to the point of deciding that over-sized breasts and backsides, complimented with a tiny waste, was the most desirable figure?
According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, 14.6 million cosmetic surgeries happen a year. Keep in mind, many of those are probably for reasons other than "self-improvement", but still. All of this because of an imperfect idea of perfect beauty. Knowing that one's body will never be good enough.
1 Peter 3:3-4 states
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.
Inner beauty.
Inner
Beauty
What a concept.
In all honesty everyone will eventually become physically "ugly" (or what the world might it find to be), it's inevitable. There is no amount of Botox, make-up, implants, creams, or nip-tucks will save you from aging. Instead, focus on how to be a light to others and let your inner beauty overcome that of the outer. I have found that the most beautiful people I've met aren't those who look magazine cover worthy, but have a spirit that radiates the love for those around them.
God has given everyone the ability to show compassion, care, and love. So use it.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Disney Equality
When it comes to feminists, I suppose you could say I'm relatively one. Not one of those hardcore, let's burn our bras type of one, but the type that knows women deserve respect and should rightfully be given it. However, it seems that nowadays in the land of sitcoms, Disney especially, inequality between men and women has gone polar opposite.
I grew up watching shows on Disney channel and as I got older I noticed a common trend. The dads gradually got dumber.
One of my favorite show has been, and always will be, Boy Meets World. Ask anyone in my family and they'll be quick to agree that I've probably seen every single show and can quote almost every line while watching said episodes. When I found out that Disney was making a spin off, I was hesitant to watch because I didn't know if it would taint one of my favorite sitcoms. Nonetheless, I decided to give it a go. Without shame, I admit I watched the whole first season. However, as in basic Disney trend, I noticed that Cory, the father, was portrayed as much less intelligent and more of a pushover than his wife, Topanga. There was even an episode where Topanga flat out said, "My husband is a dope."
What kind of message is this sending? I'm all for women being strong, but think if it were the other way around. If Cory were to say, "My wife is a dope." I can guarantee media and lawsuits (or whatever) would be all over that.
Let's bring it back to the 90's shall we?
In the original Boy Meets World the parents were equal partners and had an equal amount of intelligence. Alan and Amy (parents) were both respected by not only their children but each other as well. The point is they were both portrayed as mindful adults not mindless children.
Now I know the social norms of society have changed. Women have more of a voice and in some cases are much more strong willed than they used to be, which is great. However, if we want our boys to grow up to be respectful, intelligent men, good fathers, and supportive husbands, isn't it important that they're portrayed that way on Television?
I grew up watching shows on Disney channel and as I got older I noticed a common trend. The dads gradually got dumber.
One of my favorite show has been, and always will be, Boy Meets World. Ask anyone in my family and they'll be quick to agree that I've probably seen every single show and can quote almost every line while watching said episodes. When I found out that Disney was making a spin off, I was hesitant to watch because I didn't know if it would taint one of my favorite sitcoms. Nonetheless, I decided to give it a go. Without shame, I admit I watched the whole first season. However, as in basic Disney trend, I noticed that Cory, the father, was portrayed as much less intelligent and more of a pushover than his wife, Topanga. There was even an episode where Topanga flat out said, "My husband is a dope."
What kind of message is this sending? I'm all for women being strong, but think if it were the other way around. If Cory were to say, "My wife is a dope." I can guarantee media and lawsuits (or whatever) would be all over that.
Let's bring it back to the 90's shall we?
In the original Boy Meets World the parents were equal partners and had an equal amount of intelligence. Alan and Amy (parents) were both respected by not only their children but each other as well. The point is they were both portrayed as mindful adults not mindless children.
Now I know the social norms of society have changed. Women have more of a voice and in some cases are much more strong willed than they used to be, which is great. However, if we want our boys to grow up to be respectful, intelligent men, good fathers, and supportive husbands, isn't it important that they're portrayed that way on Television?
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Back from the Dead
So here I sit, once again. Computer on my lap, fingers on the keyboard, and eyes staring into an ominous, pixelated (I guess that's a word, right?) screen that will soon enough hold my next blogging masterpiece. In all honesty I had almost forgotten about this little beauty. I think the last time I blogged was a year or so ago, maybe more. Life has been full of ups and downs, ins and outs, and honestly I couldn't be more thankful for each and every one of them. No matter how painful or wonderful they may have been. For, each experience has given me life in some way. Thus showing me once again that I am merely human and have another reason to breathe.
Breathe.
Something I've found that I get to do a lot more of.
I feel this past year has been one of a metamorphisis to say the least. New job, new friends, new church, new life in general I suppose.
I'm not really sure what else to say...it's late. But you know that feeling of cleanliness you get after you've had time to rejuvinate? Like everything has been washed away and there's nothing left but a blank page that awaits a record of life's next events? I think I've, once again, reached that point.
To new beginnings.
New adventures.
And hopefully new blog posts in the near future.
Just don't forget the old.
Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.
-Ecclesiastes 3:11
Cheers
Breathe.
Something I've found that I get to do a lot more of.
I feel this past year has been one of a metamorphisis to say the least. New job, new friends, new church, new life in general I suppose.
I'm not really sure what else to say...it's late. But you know that feeling of cleanliness you get after you've had time to rejuvinate? Like everything has been washed away and there's nothing left but a blank page that awaits a record of life's next events? I think I've, once again, reached that point.
To new beginnings.
New adventures.
And hopefully new blog posts in the near future.
Just don't forget the old.
Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.
-Ecclesiastes 3:11
Cheers
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Drum Roll Please...
Let me begin with warning you that, as I write this I am relatively sleep deprived, on the mend from being sick for the 3rd week now, and overall filled with mental mush. Such things as random words, phrases, or three headed octopi may appear. Granted, I have found that writing in such a state gives me an extra Hemingway feeling. (If you don't understand what I'm talking about, ask your high school English teacher.)
Now, where was I?
Ah yes, I have an announcement.
No, I'm not engaged.
No, I haven't graduated from anything.
And you all already know that I will be moving back to Washington in a matter of weeks (or at least you should by now...if not, well, surprise!)
What many of you don't know is what I plan to do doing with my life job wise.
I'll give you a couple seconds to think about it.
.............
.......................
...............................
............................................
........................................................
................................................................
.......................................................
.............................................
..................................
.........................
...................
(Anybody else think that kind of looks like an F-15 fighter plane? No? How about now?)
Time's up.
Any guesses?
Yes you in the front. No not you. Yes you. Hey now, don't look around like you don't think I saw your hand. I will fight you with my onomatopoeias...that I'm typing...right now...KAPOW! BOOM! SMASH!
(Well, that escalated quickly...moving on)
If your guess was an Educational Therapist you would be 100% correct.
I will be working at Bellevue Christian School as an Educational Therapist for the Student Academic Services department.
Now, what exactly does an Educational Therapist do you may ask?
No, we don't sit around and ask students how they feel about their homework. Nor are we shrinks for burnt out teachers, we work with students who have learning difficulties. Such difficulties can range from simply not being able to put thoughts into written words, to dyslexia.
How I came about this job is a whole other story in itself. I guess my desire for a position like this began last year. I tutored a child who's ability to study and just focus was minimum. There were outside factors that played in, but it seemed like no matter how hard he tried there was a block in his brain. So the realization of my future calling began.
Working with him and seeing him not only gain new study habits but self confidence as well made me realize that this was the type of teaching I wanted to do. The question was, how? One can not pay bills on tutoring alone.
Skipping multiple months ahead, I'm sitting on my computer desperately searching for jobs. Nothing seemed like a fit. One day I get a Facebook message from my mom saying that a lady from our church mentioned that there would be some retiring Educational Therapists. She gave me a brief description of the job and I just about jumped out of my chair with excitement.
A job that not only involved working with students one on one, but working with students just like my former tutee.
The paper work began and I sent off all of my application information. Then, the beloved waiting game began. I soon received an email from the secretary saying that there weren't any current openings for said position. To say a little part of my died inside would be a dramatic, but a little part of me died inside. My dream job was dangling in front of my face and I couldn't even reach it.
Quickly shaking it off, the job search began again.
It seemed like my choices were either primary/early childhood or high school (Math nonetheless...I can hardly remember how to do algebra.). As my days of searching grew, my confidence of finding the right job began to shrink. That is, until my mom once again brought the Educational Therapist position to my attention. (Thanks again Mom, you're awesome, high five. On the side. On the other side. Up high. Down low.).
Apparently BCS had updated their employment opportunity and there, in pixleated black and white was the job description.
After a few emails back and forth with the director of the Student Academic Services department and weeks of patiently waiting, I was blessed with an interview date.
Now before I go on, let me first say that it was obvious that God had paved a way for me to receive this position ( just like He paves a way for everything in life). Unfortunately Satan always likes to muddle in things he shouldn't.
Cue the beginning stages of pnuemonia.
About three weeks ago (and about 6 days before my interview date) I start feeling sick. After a few days my voice is completely gone. All I can focus on is the fact that I have an interview in three days an I can hardly say hello. It was then that I had to step back and remind myself, if it's God's will that I have this job I will have a voice.
Three rounds of antibiotics, two sicks days, and one doctor's visit later I no longer have a verbal block. One crisis was averted, the only other concern I had was the internet cutting out. Saipan internet is relatively weak and, due to the fact that my interview would be via Skype, I didn't know what to expect. But again I told myself, if it's God's will that I have this job, I will have working internet.
My interview came, the internet didn't cut out once.
Within hours I was told that they wanted me to join them in the SAS department. Remember the jumping out of my chair feeling I mentioned earlier? This was about ten times that. All I had left to do was follow up interview with the superintendent (which, obviously, went very well).
I cannot praise God enough for this opportunity.
The fact that His hand was so evident in this process still astounds me.
Thank you all for the support and prayers you have provided for me throughout this process.
I will keep you posted as things progress :).
Now, where was I?
Ah yes, I have an announcement.
No, I'm not engaged.
No, I haven't graduated from anything.
And you all already know that I will be moving back to Washington in a matter of weeks (or at least you should by now...if not, well, surprise!)
What many of you don't know is what I plan to do doing with my life job wise.
I'll give you a couple seconds to think about it.
.............
.......................
...............................
............................................
........................................................
................................................................
.......................................................
.............................................
..................................
.........................
...................
(Anybody else think that kind of looks like an F-15 fighter plane? No? How about now?)
Time's up.
Any guesses?
Yes you in the front. No not you. Yes you. Hey now, don't look around like you don't think I saw your hand. I will fight you with my onomatopoeias...that I'm typing...right now...KAPOW! BOOM! SMASH!
(Well, that escalated quickly...moving on)
If your guess was an Educational Therapist you would be 100% correct.
I will be working at Bellevue Christian School as an Educational Therapist for the Student Academic Services department.
Now, what exactly does an Educational Therapist do you may ask?
No, we don't sit around and ask students how they feel about their homework. Nor are we shrinks for burnt out teachers, we work with students who have learning difficulties. Such difficulties can range from simply not being able to put thoughts into written words, to dyslexia.
How I came about this job is a whole other story in itself. I guess my desire for a position like this began last year. I tutored a child who's ability to study and just focus was minimum. There were outside factors that played in, but it seemed like no matter how hard he tried there was a block in his brain. So the realization of my future calling began.
Working with him and seeing him not only gain new study habits but self confidence as well made me realize that this was the type of teaching I wanted to do. The question was, how? One can not pay bills on tutoring alone.
Skipping multiple months ahead, I'm sitting on my computer desperately searching for jobs. Nothing seemed like a fit. One day I get a Facebook message from my mom saying that a lady from our church mentioned that there would be some retiring Educational Therapists. She gave me a brief description of the job and I just about jumped out of my chair with excitement.
A job that not only involved working with students one on one, but working with students just like my former tutee.
The paper work began and I sent off all of my application information. Then, the beloved waiting game began. I soon received an email from the secretary saying that there weren't any current openings for said position. To say a little part of my died inside would be a dramatic, but a little part of me died inside. My dream job was dangling in front of my face and I couldn't even reach it.
Quickly shaking it off, the job search began again.
It seemed like my choices were either primary/early childhood or high school (Math nonetheless...I can hardly remember how to do algebra.). As my days of searching grew, my confidence of finding the right job began to shrink. That is, until my mom once again brought the Educational Therapist position to my attention. (Thanks again Mom, you're awesome, high five. On the side. On the other side. Up high. Down low.).
Apparently BCS had updated their employment opportunity and there, in pixleated black and white was the job description.
After a few emails back and forth with the director of the Student Academic Services department and weeks of patiently waiting, I was blessed with an interview date.
Now before I go on, let me first say that it was obvious that God had paved a way for me to receive this position ( just like He paves a way for everything in life). Unfortunately Satan always likes to muddle in things he shouldn't.
Cue the beginning stages of pnuemonia.
About three weeks ago (and about 6 days before my interview date) I start feeling sick. After a few days my voice is completely gone. All I can focus on is the fact that I have an interview in three days an I can hardly say hello. It was then that I had to step back and remind myself, if it's God's will that I have this job I will have a voice.
Three rounds of antibiotics, two sicks days, and one doctor's visit later I no longer have a verbal block. One crisis was averted, the only other concern I had was the internet cutting out. Saipan internet is relatively weak and, due to the fact that my interview would be via Skype, I didn't know what to expect. But again I told myself, if it's God's will that I have this job, I will have working internet.
My interview came, the internet didn't cut out once.
Within hours I was told that they wanted me to join them in the SAS department. Remember the jumping out of my chair feeling I mentioned earlier? This was about ten times that. All I had left to do was follow up interview with the superintendent (which, obviously, went very well).
I cannot praise God enough for this opportunity.
The fact that His hand was so evident in this process still astounds me.
Thank you all for the support and prayers you have provided for me throughout this process.
I will keep you posted as things progress :).
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