The Fork in the Road

   I'm turning in a new direction in my life and my career, beginning tomorrow.   I start a new job, at a new building and I'm thrilled - and terrified.  I'm also getting way ahead of myself.  Here is how it happened.  I have worked at the same elementary school for the last 7 years.  For four of those years I was half time there and half time at another school.  Three years ago I was asked to be the department lead for the special education department in my school.  This responsibility came with a half day to perform those additional duties and the other half of the day I was a teacher and case manager.  There were aspects of that position that I truly enjoyed.  I enjoyed the chance to deal with adults instead of children and I took pleasure in the paperwork and organizing portion of the position. I loved the creative outlet of putting together schedules, tables, tracking progress in programming, organizing and facilitating meetings. The drawback was that it seemed to be impossible for me to complete the work within my allotted workday.  I took more and more work home.  I stopped doing any of the things that have previously restored my perspective on life, but I missed those things so much that they became items on my list of undone things.  My heart knew that I need those outlets.  Last year I applied for a new position and was denied.  This story is longer and still a little bitter but I refuse to express useless bitterness in this blog.  The long and short of the story is that the position I applied for was filled in our building by someone else and my position became more difficult.  The expectations for what I could accomplish grew while I was offered  less time in which to do it.  It was clear that I was not going to have a place in that building for much longer.  By November I was so very discouraged that I knew I was going to have to change something.
   I have begun the process of reinventing myself.  It may seem crazy but I went back to school.  I have been attending an online program at Bethel University since November and have completed the certification for Autism.  Beginning this fall I will be completing my licensure in Learning Disabilities and next summer I hope to finally finish up the thesis for my masters in education.
   In March I was informed that I would be going back to being half time in one building and half time in another, by April it was decided that my caseload would not include any of my EBD students.  Since, at the time, the only licensure I had was EBD  I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be transferred out of the building so I began looking for a new position.  I wanted to have some say in where I would land so I applied for nearly a dozen positions.  There are few experiences in life that match the emotional roller coaster of job hunting.  You open the postings with a mixture of hope and trepidation, read - and reread- the job descriptions and ask yourself if you can picture doing that job.  Is this it?  Is this the right place for me?  What exactly does this job description mean anyway?  Should I rewrite my resume?  Did I say something stupid in my application?  Why is no one responding?   Then when you do get an interview you agonize about every question they asked and everything you forgot to say.  The "catch 22" is that people don't usually go looking for a new job out of a sense of confidence and accomplishment.  No one gets up in the morning and says "Wow I'm really good at my job and I'm really happy here I think I'll look for a new job" so walking into a room and "selling" yourself to several people requires a special kind of courage (or desperation).  In the end, I was offered a position at a new school (I will not use the names of the schools in which I work here because those I work with have a right to some privacy). I will be teaching in a setting 3 EBD program.  The prospect is thrilling and terrifying.  Thrilling because I love having a classroom of my own, something that I did not have in a resource position.  Terrifying because these will be students who have a higher level of need and I will have a whole new set of skills to learn in order to adequately serve them.  One of the positives here (and despite my anxiety there are a great many) is that my school district has done an amazing job of providing training and support.  Every person beginning a new position feels overwhelmed and undertrained but the people whose job it is to support me in this position have done a wonderful job of making the tools I will need available to me.
   This last year has been tough on me but I have learned a number of eternal lessons to go along with the temporal things I've learned. 

First - I am NOT alone.  My Father in Heaven knows me and He has given me all the support I could possibly need.  I have a husband who holds the priesthood. I have children, parents, and brothers and sisters (et. al) who support and care about me. I have diligent, caring home teachers.  I have a calling in the church that puts me in a position to work with people who are understanding, encouraging, and supportive. I have also made friends in my profession that will remain my friends no matter where I work.  In reviewing the amount of caring support I've received it becomes obvious that there was never any real danger of failure.

Second - I have been blessed with some divine gifts that deserve to be respected and utilized.  I sometimes forget that the skills I have with children are gifts from God, not personal accomplishments.  I can feel good about and competent in my gifts but I hope I never again forget that they come from Him and will be available to me as long as I stay close to Him.  I can handle where He has lead me because He will "prepare a way that I may accomplish the thing . . ."

Last - I am an eternal being in training.  This is a training ground and these challenges are preparing me for the next adventure.  As painful as this process was, nothing can take away from me this core knowledge that I a daughter of God first and a teacher, mother, wife, sister etc.  second. 

Look out here I come!!!
   

A Story

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, there was a stubborn princess who was given a very great gift. The year was 1980, "Princess" Jan had been married for 2 years. She had one beautiful daughter and was expecting another child. Jan's first husband, Dan the Frog Prince, had spent the last year investigating various religions and Jan had just about decided that all religions were a waste of time. The little family had just moved into a tiny home on Bell Street when Dan saw two young men in dark suits walking down the street. Dan invited the valiant young Saturday's Warriors into the little home where they began to tell a lovely story of redemption and hope. The young men were missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. They taught Dan about a prophet of God who restored the true gospel. They taught him about where we came from and where we are going, about the Father's plan for how we can become like Him and be able to return to Him. The stubborn princess was angry to have Dan bringing a new world of ideas and expectations into their home so she told the young men she would not listen to them. Then whenever they came to the tiny castle she pretended to stay away but busied herself in the next room where she could listen to the warriors speak. The stubborn princess knew in her heart that they were speaking the truth but she did not want to change their whole lives. When the young men told the story of the family becoming a family for all of eternity she knew that she could lose her precious children if she did not soften her heart. The princess eventually joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and has been listening ever since. She is still stubborn though.

Mother's Day

I'm missing out on some great blessings by not visiting this blog more often.  Today is Mother's Day, once again and I've had a very nice day despite my tendency to feel sorry for myself on Mother's Day.  My children are all "elsewhere".  Anna and Stan have moved to Tempe, AZ,  Brenda, Derek and Daevius have moved to Boulder, UT, and Bill, Stephanie, Ben & Elodie are still in Provo, UT.  No kids in my immediate vicinity to bring me an inedible breakfast in bed and invade my house for the day - SO I was feeling sorry for myself.  My sweet son (actually I suspect it was my daughter-in-law) sent me a mug with pictures of my grandchildren all over it. My husband cooked dinner, and Bill called me and we talked for an hour.  I took a nap in the afternoon.  Now I'm just hanging out for the rest of the day.  I called my moms yesterday, and everyone seems to be doing okay.  Life is good.

Now for a few of my thoughts, ramblings, etc about mothers.  The Smith's spoke in church today on the subject of mothers.  I really enjoyed their messages. It had me thinking (as the talks on Mother's Day usually do) about what kind of mother I have been and the mother's I have had in my life.  I remember wanting to be the best mother EVER.  (Not exactly an original goal - but worthy, I think)  I wasn't.  Every mother has things they would do differently if given the chance.  Every mother looks back at their own maternal parent with a mixture of critique and emulation and tries to choose the best of what she got and improve on the things that maybe did not go so well.  The trouble is that the critique portion of the program is taken on by an inexperienced blockhead.  My own mother had a boatload (sure glad I cleaned that up) of challenges when she was parenting me and I could probably spend some time talking about what went wrong but as I look back at my own successes and failures, I'm not sure the beam has been removed from my own eye enough to clearly see the mote in my mom's.  Here are the things my mother has done exceptionally well for me.  She convinced me that I was smart and capable.  She taught me that if I wanted to do something I would be able to do it - but I might have to be willing to get there on my own.  She showed me that people can fall down and make mistakes and can pick their lives up and move on.  Recently, my mother told me she was proud of the things I have accomplished.  What she missed is that the pure stubborn strength that has gotten me here (my hubby grumbles about my "Danish streak") really did come from her.  I love my mom, and I'm grateful for the things I have learned about love and humility as well as perseverance from her.  Thanks Mom.