Sunday, September 22, 2013
The long & dark registration of the soul...
What ever my fate, I promised myself I wouldn't go back to sleep. The TESOL program was a bear, as I've already mentioned. I knew this going in, and I knew I could do the work. I speak to students all the time, and am always attempting to educate them on financial aid, choosing classes, preparing for transfer, etc. Occasionally, I'm even successful. Combine that with my love of the English language, and I figured I would be an acceptable teacher. I would just need to overcome my fear (there's that world again!) and put myself in a position to publicly fail.
Well, there some rough patches, and many sleepless nights filled with anxiety. I did well enough in both my lesson plans and preparation. I expected this. I even expected to be good at teaching, assuming I didn't have a nervous breakdown. I didn't, though I won't deny there were days when I wanted to collapse, but I couldn't quit, not when someone stuck his neck out for me.
Again, I expected all of the above, even the near breakdown(s). What I did not expect was how much I would love teaching, and how much I would benefit. I ate it up like candy. I actually looked forward to to being in the classroom, and the feedback from my mentor was terrific. I felt alive for the first time in years. Everyone noticed, even the other students, who didn't know me.
So now, 5 weeks later, I wait.There's a part of me that would have preferred not to take the class at all than to know what I feel what I felt or know what I know, and not be able to experience it again or use the knowledge I developed.
To wit I reply: fuck that defeatist attitude. I've grown more than in years, class or no. If I'm not teaching this term, I'll try again in January. Until then, I have my orders: lay low, and keep growing. Along with the question of what I'd do if I weren't afraid, I have a new mantra: no more moral victories. Every new venture, of any type, must have a specific reason and tangible reward. Registration is done; there's clean-up of course, as there always is. What is new is the understanding that I'm much more capable than I'd thought, and I can no longer let me fears stop me.
The Summer of my Discontent part Zwei
As I sit in my office at 10pm on a Wed. night, I feel (hope?) I am at a crossroads. Calling May through August 8th. the summer of my discontent is a lame attempt at irony. Though I worked like a dog, spent the July 4th weekend at a Lake George McDonald's using the WiFi, spent sleepless nights panicked at the thought of teaching students, wracking my brain for lesson plans, attending classes three nights a week, volunteering over the weekends, and generally kicking my own ass, this was probably the 3rd best summer of my life. Only 1992 and 1987 were better, with 1994 getting bumped by a hair. Sorry Shawnee, though you did kick ass.
Unlike most of the changes in my life, this summer involved some forethought. I've spoken of my last attempt at finishing the school's TESOL program, and what a disaster it was. I'd wanted to return and redeem myself, but never had the courage to do anything besides dream. Then, some months ago, one of my colleague recommenced a book: "Who Moved my Cheese?" Some in the business world howl in pain at just the mention of this book, but I enjoyed it. The main theme was two little people and two mice who all had a place in a maze where they found cheese. The mice realized their cheese was diminishing in both quality and amount, and left their section of the maze to "find new cheese." The little people were too comfortable in their positions to realize the situation had already changed, so they were shocked to find the place where they got their cheese was devoid of food.
After a period of waiting and starving, one ventures into the maze, and after a long journey, found cheese. At first it wasn't much, and there were false leads, but he eventually found new types of cheese, better cheese, and more of it. He occasionally returned to his friend, Hem, (as in hemmed in...) to get Hem to search with him in the maze. Hem never left, and his fate was unknown.
As you can probably tell, this is universally seen as a thinly-veiled metaphor for the business world, with otherwise contented (and unsuspecting) people thrown into unemployment and job hunting, often for the first time since graduating college. This did not apply to me, but the book asked a question: "What would you do if you weren't afraid?" After repeatedly listening to the audio version of the book, I absorbed the lesson, even if I hadn't realized it.
The question was on my mind as I went around the college, tending to my daily errands. I grabbed the Summer 2103 Continuing Ed brochure, as I'd done every term from 2003 onward. I passed payroll, and I went into ask the question I'd been to scared to ask: "Could I teach a class but still work overtime in financial aid?" Now, you may wonder why this simple query paralyzed me so. The answer is the same as to why I never went to any of the off-shore seminars until recently. In both cases, it was the aforementioned book that enabled me to push past the fear on that level as well.
The reason I could never muster the courage was not asking the question, but hearing the answer. Once I knew, I could no longer just dream. This was true no matter what the answer was. If the answer was yes, then I'd have to inquire about the TESOL program, or try to put together a business course. If the answer was no, then I'd really have to start an online venture. Both involed me getting out of my comfort zone - way out.
Armed with the knowledge I could teach but still do my job during registration, I needed to to grown yet another pair and ask the director of the TESOL program to allow me to try the program again. He was amenable, and despite a little bit of resistance from the Dean, I was in.
12 weeks later I stood with my certificate, hopeful that I could start teaching ESL, and preparing for the next phase of my life, and this time with some preparation and forethought involved. As usual, I was wrong.
Unlike most of the changes in my life, this summer involved some forethought. I've spoken of my last attempt at finishing the school's TESOL program, and what a disaster it was. I'd wanted to return and redeem myself, but never had the courage to do anything besides dream. Then, some months ago, one of my colleague recommenced a book: "Who Moved my Cheese?" Some in the business world howl in pain at just the mention of this book, but I enjoyed it. The main theme was two little people and two mice who all had a place in a maze where they found cheese. The mice realized their cheese was diminishing in both quality and amount, and left their section of the maze to "find new cheese." The little people were too comfortable in their positions to realize the situation had already changed, so they were shocked to find the place where they got their cheese was devoid of food.
After a period of waiting and starving, one ventures into the maze, and after a long journey, found cheese. At first it wasn't much, and there were false leads, but he eventually found new types of cheese, better cheese, and more of it. He occasionally returned to his friend, Hem, (as in hemmed in...) to get Hem to search with him in the maze. Hem never left, and his fate was unknown.
As you can probably tell, this is universally seen as a thinly-veiled metaphor for the business world, with otherwise contented (and unsuspecting) people thrown into unemployment and job hunting, often for the first time since graduating college. This did not apply to me, but the book asked a question: "What would you do if you weren't afraid?" After repeatedly listening to the audio version of the book, I absorbed the lesson, even if I hadn't realized it.
The question was on my mind as I went around the college, tending to my daily errands. I grabbed the Summer 2103 Continuing Ed brochure, as I'd done every term from 2003 onward. I passed payroll, and I went into ask the question I'd been to scared to ask: "Could I teach a class but still work overtime in financial aid?" Now, you may wonder why this simple query paralyzed me so. The answer is the same as to why I never went to any of the off-shore seminars until recently. In both cases, it was the aforementioned book that enabled me to push past the fear on that level as well.
The reason I could never muster the courage was not asking the question, but hearing the answer. Once I knew, I could no longer just dream. This was true no matter what the answer was. If the answer was yes, then I'd have to inquire about the TESOL program, or try to put together a business course. If the answer was no, then I'd really have to start an online venture. Both involed me getting out of my comfort zone - way out.
Armed with the knowledge I could teach but still do my job during registration, I needed to to grown yet another pair and ask the director of the TESOL program to allow me to try the program again. He was amenable, and despite a little bit of resistance from the Dean, I was in.
12 weeks later I stood with my certificate, hopeful that I could start teaching ESL, and preparing for the next phase of my life, and this time with some preparation and forethought involved. As usual, I was wrong.
