What’s Best For Me

It’s hard to know what’s best for you sometimes. There are always people that you never want to let down, or you don’t want to risk having someone see you as a failure. However, it’s important to know your limits. People sometimes travel down one path and then find themselves lost, even while following what once were clear signs.

I applied for the graduate program I am in because I wanted to teach science, and I thought the unique nature of it would keep me from feeling weighted down with even more school after four years in college. Within two semesters, though, I needed a break. Then, I felt like I was missing out on the opportunity and couldn’t bear to see myself not finish yet another thing I had already started. Even after taking a break and then returning to it with a renewed perspective on what I want out of life, however, I couldn’t reignite the interest and the passion I had for it when I first started.

I’ve been on a journey of self-discovery these past few months, and I know now that what’s best for me in this particular moment of my life is to not continue further in a program that I no longer feel any motivation for. While having an MA would be great, I don’t know what I would do with it because I don’t know what path I’m following anymore. I don’t want to just give up on the classes I’m currently taking, though, so I will continue to do my best and then leave the program knowing it was not a waste of time or money. I’ve learned more than I thought I would, and I wouldn’t trade the time I’ve had in this program for anything.

A System of Frustration

How many educators are actually content with the United States Department of Education? How many go home after a long day and praise the people who ask for more work hours than they are willing to pay? I can say, without even being a certified teacher yet, that I would not be someone doing either of those things.

The reason behind typing this post is in the form of tears that welled in my eyes over the confusion and frustration caused by attempting to file paperwork for subbing. What I assumed would be a simple matter of getting fingerprints taken and filling out an application to be given to the district I want to sub in is anything but. Before I am able to sub for my mentor teacher, I have to send my paperwork to the State and await approval, which could take up to 2 weeks. Then, I am supposed to meet with someone that I do not know who is to finalize my paperwork and give written approval for me to sub. Had I known any of this, I would have begun the process weeks ago. Of course, I want to blame the certification program at my school and get angry at them for not knowing all of this and putting it in the handbook, but I feel like that wouldn’t do me any good. I like the supervisors I have through the program. Maybe they didn’t know that the process had become so complicated. Perhaps I should have done this weeks ago anyway and avoided the negative feelings I have now. Despite anything I could have done to avoid this anger, though, I believe I would have still come up with something to be mad at the system about.

As much as I am enjoying my student teaching experience, I can’t help but get irked over thinking about how many rules and regulations there are to follow in order to teach in a public school. It bothers me that teachers I work with, teachers I’ve come to realize actually care very much about educating young people, could be bogged down by the system at any moment. There are so many restrictions, which may depend upon location, and all I can think about is how much I would love to just teach these same students in a completely different way.

Today, I sat in on some Parent/Teacher Conferences, and I was saddened by the predicament of one girl. She is becoming bored in her math class, and her mom is concerned that she is not able to move into a higher level. While I could understand the reasoning behind the class dwelling on topics she may already know in order to get them to stick with her, I wondered what her personal expectations of school are. Does she expect teachers to be able to accommodate her individual needs, to help her succeed and move on to high school and college? Does she expect there to be consequences if she is going through school without learning anything new? Does she feel like the system is failing her? Because that’s how I felt in those moments, listening to the teachers speak and watching her expression stay neutral.

While this post is purely a rant in order to vent my feelings, I do wonder, every day now, how we could make a difference. What can we do as educators to help students as much as possible without having to seek some kind of approval? Can’t we just ask them what they want to learn, how they want to learn it, and take it from there? I wish it were that simple. And despite these frustrations I have, or perhaps because of them, I am still anxious to be a teacher. I want to have a hand in educating young people about science. As long as I remember that, I can get better at standing against the system.

Favorite Shirt Outgrown

I arrived back in town yesterday, hoping for that nostalgic feeling as I watched the tourists roam the streets and smelled the salty sea. What I felt instead was loss and discomfort. After graduating, I felt that a chapter had closed on my life, taking my college and the town it’s in with it. However, I knew I would be returning in only a few short months. What I feel now is disconnected. I’m living in a house that’s not on campus. I’m passing by the school without needing to turn into the parking lot. I’m sleeping soundly without noisy first years or the risk of a fire alarm because someone felt the need to make toast at 2 AM. This place is my favorite shirt, and it’s been outgrown.

I spent a few hours this morning helping my cooperating teacher set up for the start of school just after Labor Day. I was nervous, thinking about going in, wondering if it would be awkward in any way. I was happily surprised. She asked me about my drive and how work over the summer was. I asked her how long she had been teaching and whether it ran in the family. We tackled the to-do list, setting up bulletin boards and discussing what the first week of school would consist of. She also assigned me my first task: create an activity to test 7th and 8th grade on their knowledge of lab safety. Although we are still getting to know each other, I felt comfortable and excited about the fact that I will be working with her for 15 weeks.

The town I live in now may not feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. A new filter has taken the place of the old one, used to bits by my undergraduate self. Today, I see a marked, bumpy path, riddled with holes to trip me up and an oasis every 500 feet. An arrow can always be seen, pointing back to where I started, offering me the chance to drop it all and move in a different direction. However, I don’t intend to follow it. I have a teacher who was willing to have me in her classroom, to let me learn from her. I have a housemate who offered me a room at a reasonable rate. I have family that will support me if I fall into one of those holes and can’t get back out. Of course, there are countless beings against me, but it wouldn’t be any fun if I could breeze on by.

Learning to Teach

When I was younger, I remember having this intense desire to be a zoologist. I had no idea what it meant, but I knew it had something to do with animals. Also, what kid doesn’t want to pursue a career with the word “zoo” in it? As I grew older, I tried to narrow my field of study. Marine Biology became intriguing. I fell in love with the idea of learning all about sea creatures and the lives they can live on land or below the sea. Then, I discovered my perfect school. A small college located on an island, offering access to two other offshore islands, one-on-one interactions with professors, a national park, and the opportunity to design your own road map. I was sold.

Fast-forward to my second year. My interest in reading or writing lab reports is zero. Conducting research without being in the field holds little appeal. The “Marine Biologist” title is no longer magical, and I have two more years to spend figuring out my life. At least, that’s what you’re told. I still enjoyed science, but I didn’t want to go the route of a traditional scientist. Feeling at a loss, I turned my attention to teaching. I grew up with parents who taught, and I enjoyed spending time helping them in the classroom. Was that something I could learn to do? Did I want to? Upon completion of an internship where I spent 15 weeks educating the public on the flora and fauna of a National Wildlife Refuge in South Texas, I realized that this was something I wanted to pursue. I sought out a second internship at a different refuge in South Jersey, and I never wanted it to end. I could hike through riparian habitat or feel the sand between my toes for the rest of my life, and I would be happy. Of course, it’s never really that easy.

As I became more inclined to following the route of environmental education, I realized that just trying to seek and obtain a teaching position may not be as simple without becoming certified. Following that thought, I decided to become involved in the Ed Studies program at the college Becoming certified in secondary life science, I was required to take a number of education courses as well as a minimum of 8 science courses. There was a list of other tasks as well, but I put many of them aside for the remainder of my undergraduate years, a disconcerting action in retrospect. As I conquered the obstacles set before me, I neared the end of the certification process, just in time for me to graduate. All that was left was to be approved for student teaching, successfully complete student teaching, pass two Praxis tests, and be approved for certification. Sounds easy, right? I thought I so, too.

Since graduating, I have run into problem after problem, whether it’s the cost of taking a test or figuring out where to live while I student teach. One may ask, what’s the point then? The point is that this is what I want to do. I want to be able to teach people, young and old, about the science in our very own backyard. I want them to get excited over hearing spring peepers at night and knowing what it means. I want them to look at a bird through a pair of binoculars and be able to tell if it’s a male or female. I want them to lie in the grass and realize that we are connected to the insects crawling nearby and the dog barking down the street. And that learning doesn’t and shouldn’t be confined to four walls.

I created this blog because I want to share my journey as I become certified, both the roadblocks I run into and the accomplishments I gain. I want to be able to share my annoyances with the United States education system and my happiness with how well students can learn when they’re given the freedom to do so. If you’re interested in following along, I look forward to your comments, questions, and concerns!