What scares me today

I used to be a teacher. My first real, albeit short-lived, grown-up career was as a high school English teacher at Alta High School. I wasn't very good at it (although I had some moments of brilliance), and after three years I realized it just wasn't going to work. As I was speeding to a sophomore softball tournament that last April with blurry, teared-up eyes, crying to my sister about how utterly and completely miserable I was, I realized I could not continue my teaching career.

Sidenote: Right after I turned in my resignation, I got the results from my Praxis exam (a standardized test that teachers have to take in order to move from a provisionary license to the real thing). I paid a lot of money to take it, stressed about it, finally took it, and promptly realized that I couldn't continue teaching and survive. So, they sent me my results with a big old certificate honoring the fact that I scored in the 90th percentile or something. I may or may not have cursed the Praxis and that stupid certificate with some particularly colorful language. Back to the main event...

I was exhausted, I felt persecuted, and I constantly berated myself for not living up to the importance of preparing young minds for their future. I had over 40 students in most of my classes. They were seniors who opted out of every other possibility to earn their last Language Arts credit-the major road block to graduation and their ticket out of there. Most of them were ticked off at me before we even met, and possibly more pissy about it upon realizing that I actually expected them to do something in order to pass. I was also helping with the softball team, which meant after Christmas, most days I left my house at about 6:30 and came home somewhere around 10, usually with a pile of papers to grade. And, I couldn't make ends meet on my $24,000 annual salary.

So I quit. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I had paychecks coming through the summer and decided that I had enough time to figure it out. And I did. I got a part-time job at the Library that quickly (and mercifully) became a full-time gig, and I've been there ever since.

What does that have to do with the sense of fear I'm experiencing today? Well, after six years, my career at the Library feels stalled. I've been talking and thinking about going back to school for several years. After much stress, anxiety, and more bleary, tear-filled eyes this spring, I decided now was the time. I'm starting the EMPA program at BYU this fall. (That's a master's of public administration--sort of similar to an MBA for people who would like to focus on the public and non-profit sector.) I have no idea where this is leading me. That's been the strangest part. I thought I knew where I was going with it, but since I've actually been accepted to the program, I've had this niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach and a little voice in the recesses of my mind that says "you have no idea yet where this will lead. But it's going, so buckle your seat belt and enjoy the ride." Who knows, maybe in ten years I'll still be in my flourescently lighted cave at the library, planning (and surviving) summer reading. But maybe I won't.

Anyway, you're probably wondering why this scares me. I've been at Math Camp this week--a refresher course for those of us who haven't been in a math, stats, or econ class in many years. So, we're talking about math and graphs, and what they mean and how to read them, and it's all becoming real. That I'm really doing this, spending a massive amount of time, money and energy on a master's degree. And I better make it worthwhile. There are only two things that I am genuinely passionate about in my life. The first is my family--the mortal one I so enjoy now, the mortal one that I very much hope to enjoy at some point in the future (maybe? my faith is weak on that admittedly), and the heavenly one that is at the core of my identity. Important, but only marginally related to my career and education. #2 on the list? Public education. I've been reading a new Georgetown study on the Great Recession and unemployment today that is fascinating, and feels a little like a call to arms to me. I've barely scratched the surface of the study, so who knows what I'll think after I've really looked at it, but if you're interested, here's the link

I won't go into it now, except to say this: In the future, our kids will need more than a high school diploma to enter the middle class. In a time when some legislators are suggesting deep cuts to education, especially to post-secondary programs like Pell grants, we have to face reality. All those students who are unable to complete a post-secondary education because they don't have the cash, the skills, or the direction out of high school to manage it, will be economically crippled throughout their lives. They will form a poverty class that we will all pay for in the long run. We need reform, not to make it harder for young people to afford school, but to make sure that they have all the resources they need to succeed. Sifting through all the ideas on how to do that will take longer than this post can sustain. Suffice it to say, that I could get very, very fired up about this.

Which is what scares me today. Fire burns things, right down to ashes if you're not careful. If you were to ask me what I'd really like to do with an MPA, the answer might just be working toward a better, fairer and more effective education system. But I was singed around the edges the last time I fought the education fire in the classroom. And from this angle, it wouldn't just be about the classroom--it would be about public policy, and politics, and all the stuff that simultaneously makes me want to roll my eyes, scream like a banshee, and projectile vomit.

So there it is. The second deepest fear of my life. All this is mighty premature, I admit. I haven't even been to orientation for the program yet. Maybe it will all work itself out. All I know is I need a master's degree and a passport.

Two more, totally unrelated things: A. I'm very proud of myself tonight because I ate a real dinner that I made my own self, with vegetables and everything. I'm a little ashamed that it makes me proud, though. Grown-ups do that regularly. B. I should never announce what my next blog post will be, because I NEVER follow through with whatever topic I announce! LAME! I'm just so easily distracted. It might be the thing I don't like most about myself. That, or my belly. Or maybe my terrible sleep habits. Or...Anyway, I am going to finish writing about my siblings, and soon. I'm finding it hard to write about my brothers though. My words will never do them justice.

Okay, one last unrelated thing. I think we should declare a moratorium on all political campaigning for 6 of the 7 days of the week. Every Tuesday for 24 hours, candidates can campaign, but for the rest of the week they have to shut the H up and do something productive. That way we can avoid all the extraneous BS they engage in while they pare their communication down to actual policy discussion, and I might actually find a good reason to vote FOR someone for a change. God help us until the 7th of November.

Cheers! I'm out.