Saturday, August 27, 2011

"They only pick on you because they like you..."

The first day of school always finds me a nervous wreck and that day in August 2002 was no different, in fact it was probably worse. I graduated from Malone the previous December and spent the spring substitute teaching, the summer working a temp job in an office while investigating the non-existent job market for Social Studies teachers in Ohio. At the end of the summer I had two options, I could take the full-time job I had been offered in the office or I could become the 7th & 8th grade supervisor at Faith Christian Academy. Despite the lack of benefits and the $13,000/year salary, I went with the job at Faith. Working in an ACE school is not exactly what I planned to do when I got my teaching degree but it meant I could work with kids, in my own room no less.

So, there I was, a Baptist girl in a Mennonite school...no excessive make-up, no jewelry, no nail polish, and always a skirt; but none of that really bothered me because I was one step closer to doing what I had always wanted to do...be a teacher.

I had two reassurances going into that first day of school... I already knew two of my students. My friend, Tina, worked at the school and three of her boys attended there. The youngest, Donnie, would be in my class. I had known Donnie since he was little and had been telling him since he was in about the 3rd grade that I was waiting on him to grow up so I could marry him....after which he would usually scowl and get away as fast as he possibly could.

Throughout high school and college, I worked for the Orrville-Dalton YMCA, usually as the Friday night closer, and there was one family that always came in to play Wallyball (a form of volleyball played inside a racquetball court) just as I had settled in behind the desk to eat my dinner, or do some studying, or read a book. Their daughter Alicia would also be in my class.

I did not know at the time that there was bit of a feud between the boys and girls with whom I would be spending the next year, and frequently Donnie and Alicia were right in the middle. I could never count how many times over that year I said, "You guys fight like an old married couple," or (as is required for all teachers to say at some point) "If he's picking on you it must mean he likes you."

I never really meant what I was saying, I just knew it was the easiest way to get them to stop fighting. So, several years later when I am sitting in my South Carolina living room going through Facebook and I see that  Donnie and Alicia are now  "In a relationship," I almost choked on my supper.  I had to check out both of their profiles to make sure it wasn't some kind of joke and then I called Tina to verify that I was really reading that correctly. Even then, it was only a high school relationship and we all know high school relationships aren't supposed to work out...well, except maybe Kevin and Lori.

Maybe it is my hardened, old-maid's heart (I threw that in just for you, Brad), but I tend to be skeptical of "young love." Surely love can't last without some experience and maturity mixed in. Well, Donnie and Alicia are still young (Donnie and Alicia will always be young to me), but they have also faced some things that some more "seasoned" relationships wouldn't have survived. When Donnie got hurt he faced a pretty intense recovery process, both physically and emotionally, but Alicia never left his side. When he went away to school, they made a long-distance relationship work. I am proud of them and their commitment to each other.

This wedding is special to me because of the two wonderful lives it will be joining together, because Donnie is the last of the "Weaver boys" to get married, and because I will forever be able to say, "I told you so!"

Love you both and wish you a lifetime of happiness! 

Friday, August 12, 2011

My Journey South: Second Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, August 2006

Friday was rather uneventful, a welcome change and a much needed opportunity to just crash. That night I relished being able to simply sleep without worrying about making it to work on time or being prepared for class the next day.

By early Saturday afternoon I had my car packed once again. I paid the hotel bill, thankful that it had only been for six days not three weeks, and headed to Donna's. We were both pretty worn out, she had company for much of the week and I, well, had the week I had; so we moved my stuff in and then didn't do a whole lot.

That evening her daughter and grandchildren came over. It was Michelle's thirtieth birthday and her husband was working so we had some cake and ice cream and I was introduced to two of the cutest redheaded boys you will ever meet in your life and one very outspoken nine year old. Alyssa's first words to me were, "I thought you'd be younger!" It amazes me that Michelle's youngest, Alex, doesn't remember a time when I wasn't around.

I hate admitting that the next morning Donna and I decided to skip church. She was still tired, I was still feeling overwhelmed. Later in the afternoon we went to lunch and made a trip to Walmart. Lunch was at a Mexican restaurant that she really liked and it wasn't too bad (no where close to El Campesino, though), but I was almost finished with my meal when I discovered a dead fly on my plate. I chose not to let Donna know and covered it with a piece of lettuce, but quickly realized I was no longer hungry.

...This is pretty much the end of my day-by-day account of moving to South Carolina. There are some assorted loose ends that I will tie up in another post, or two.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

My Journey South: Second Thursday, August 2006

It is always an amazing thing when someone tells you they will pray for you, but when they back up their prayer with a little shoe leather you really know they care.

By Thursday afternoon my mom and I had figured out the only form of communication that really worked, I would let her know I was back and then she would call the hotel to be connected with my room. She was waiting on me Thursday, it seems she had a busy afternoon.

Donna's husband, Clif, was our pastor when we lived in Chattanooga. It seems he had spent much of the day calling every church connection he had within South Carolina asking if they knew anyone who knew anyone who lived in Allendale. He was talking to a church secretary in Columbia when he got the unexpected response, "Well, yes, one one of my closest friends lives in Allendale!" He explained to her the circumstances and she connected him with her friend, whose name was also Donna. He explained things to Donna and then connected her with my mother. They talked for a while and before I even knew what was going on, it had been arranged that I would move in with Donna until the apartment was ready. She gave me Donna's number and we worked out that I would move in on Saturday. The entire situation was the greatest reminder I have yet experienced that God has a solution for our greatest problems already prepared before we even experience them. (It is also why Psalm 37:7 is my favorite verse.)

_____________________________________________________
I wanted to mention this yesterday, but Blogger wasn't cooperating...

What I have been writing over the last week, or so, is based on what I was experienced at the time...my first impressions and feelings that were subject to change as my time at the school went on. I did not know at the time that the assistant principal was someone who would be there for me many times, helping me with problems and dealing with parents. I had no way of knowing, as I know now, that if she knew all that was going on and how the district office was treating me she would have stepped in. 

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

My Journey South: Second Tuesday and Wednesday, August 2006

It is amazing just how much can happen in a week's time...

The realtor told me to call his office sometime Tuesday to check on the apartment. It wasn't finished yet, but his nephew was the contractor and they were going to see how long it would take before someone could move in.

Even this seemingly simple task was more complicated then it needed to be. I already mentioned that I was having serious connection issues with my cell phone; there was no reception anywhere in the school building and there were only two phones available for teacher use (that made parent contacts a little difficult) and they had long distance calling blocked. When I asked to be allowed to make a phone call I was informed that they were official school use only. Despite my reputation for being quiet and mild mannered, I do occasionally let my temper get the best of me and my response was a curt, "If I don't find a place to live, I won't be teaching here...that kinda sounds like school business to me." 

I made the phone call, but it wasn't as helpful as I had hoped. They thought the construction would be done in about three weeks. This fit with the time my parents had planned to pack and bring down all my furniture and books and clothes and books and dishes and books (my dad has said he will never move me again because of my books), but meant three weeks of living in a hotel room.

[That afternoon we were finally told our schedules...and I really do mean "told," we all stood in a line and waited to be called so she could tell us what we were teaching and we either remembered or wrote it down. Upperclassmen were on a block schedule and underclassmen were on a regular schedule... Government/Economics, AP US History, test prep, and Speech and Debate. Somehow my response of "no" experience with debate had been translated as a "yes" and I was now a coach. When they found there was a misunderstanding I was given the option of backing out, but was talked into it...definitely one of the best decisions of my life! Despite having so many preps, my schedule was any teacher's dream. I had a "normal" 90 minute planning period in the morning, a 30 minute transition period from when my last block class ended and my regular schedule class started, and the APUSH class was on an A/B schedule so every other day I had an additional 90 minute planning period...I frequently look back with longing at all the time I took for granted.]

My family has been blessed with the friendship of an amazing family that we met while living in Chattanooga. My mom had been in communication with them and that night Donna called me. I won't say that I was exactly feeling better about my living situation, or lack thereof, but I was resigned to it, so when she asked what I considered to be my biggest need at that point I said a place to live. We talked for a little bit and she promised they would be praying.

The next day was the first day for students and despite my nerves and all that had been and was still going on, it was a great day. I have told and will continue to tell everyone who asks that my students were the best part of working at Allendale. It wasn't always easy but I wouldn't trade the two years I spent there for the best private school in the country.

Monday, August 8, 2011

My Journey South: Second Monday, August 2006

By the time I left the school that Monday afternoon I was an emotional time bomb waiting to explode. Any adrenaline that had been helping me survive was long since gone and the heat was sapping what little energy I had in reserve and the events of the day didn't help things a whole lot.

I had seen enough of my classroom the night before to know that it would need a thorough cleaning before I could do anything else to prepare for the school year. I arrived at the school early, ready and willing to do whatever necessary to get my room in shape for Wednesday. My well-laid plans were waylaid by the introduction of something into my life known as the "faculty meeting." I spent the rest of the morning being told exactly what I needed to have in my classroom and how it should look, but never actually getting the opportunity to do any work in it. Because I now only had a day and a half to get ready for students, and because my room looked and smelled like it had been the rodent resort of choice for quite some time, I decided to forgo lunch and do some disinfecting. 

[At some point in the day I do enough investigating to find out that the sign-on bonus that I was told I would receive when I arrived wouldn't be ready for about two weeks. This was kind of a big deal because I had been working as a sub for the past four years, barely making enough to pay my bills and not getting paid at all during the summers. Money was tight and that is what I needed to get an apartment, sign up for utilities, and all that other fun stuff you have to pay for when you move.]

I quit working a little before four only because I had to stop by the district office to sign my contract, but before I left I thought I should discuss things with my hostess-to-be. I tracked her down in her office where she was still working out the schedules only to be told that she would be at the school kind of late and thought maybe it would be best if I returned to the hotel for the night. I don't know if was her stress or my imagination that made me think that she would just prefer I not stay with her at all. 

So now I am physically and mentally exhausted, the heat feels like it is sucking every fiber of life out of me, my blood sugar is crashing because I skipped lunch, and I was just told that I am basically homeless...not a bad first day on the job. 

I made to the district office before they all left and went into the human resources office to sign my contract where, of course, she asks how I am adjusting to everything. At that point I completely lose it. I am not just crying, I am literally sobbing. She tries to reassure me with promises that I'll find someplace to live and they won't let me be homeless and they can even give me an advance on my salary by the end of the week. 

I left there feeling slightly better, still shaken up but thinking that she understood. It was after four, I planned to visit a real estate agent, but even if they had something there was no way I could move into someplace that night...surely she wouldn't expect that right? Right?

I went from there to the hotel...the hotel I was told to go back to by the assistant principal, the hotel I could have sworn the human resources manager just told me I could stay at until I had someplace more permanent,  the hotel the school was supposed to have paid for the night before...wait, what do you mean they never took care of the bill? You don't have ANY rooms available? For the second time in less than an hour I was sobbing uncontrollably in front of a complete stranger.  

To anyone with a passing familiarity with Hampton, SC an obvious question would be "Why on earth would their hotel be full?" It turns out that a local company was building a new plant and construction crew was from out of town so during the week they all stayed at the Days Inn. Anyway, I must have looked and sounded pretty pathetic because the manager did some calling around to see if all the reservations would be used and came up with one extra room. However, they also called the human resources office and were told to give me a message, the district would pay for Sunday night and that night but I needed to have a place to live by Tuesday. [The district never did pay for any of it.]

I don't know how my life seemed to fall apart twice since I left the school and it still wasn't five o'clock yet, but I managed to make it to the realty office before they closed. As I sat there explaining that I had just gotten to town the night before and had to find someplace to live, the entire story started spilling out and I became a sobbing mess once again. I never cry in public and for the third time that day I was losing it in front of complete strangers. The realtor's wife (office manager) gave me a hug and let me cry until I was able to regain control. Then, despite all evidence pointing to the fact that I was a complete lunatic, they told me about options, promised to check on some possibilities, and made an appointment to pick me up at the hotel to see some apartments later that night. 

In between all of this I was trying to let my parents know what was going on, but my cell phone wouldn't work. At some point, I don't remember now if it was that night or another, we came to the conclusion that as long as the hotel had a room I would just stay there until I found something permanent, the never knowing from day to day wasn't worth it. 

I made it back to the hotel and crashed for a little while, trying to regain some sense of calm, wondering what I had gotten myself into and if this was really what I was supposed to doing why were things going so poorly. Not long before I was supposed to be picked up, I went to get some things out of my car and noticed that someone had placed a tract on my windshield. I flipped it over to see if it was from a local church and once again started crying...it was from a church in North Canton, OH. 

I have already written about my apartment search in an earlier post, The Best Nest, so I won't go into it now. I know this was a long post, but it was a long day...one that still makes me kind of emotional when I think of all that was, all that could have been. 




Sunday, August 7, 2011

My Journey South: First Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, August 2006

Friday was a long, crazy day. One last class and review session followed by the exam. [I really need to say at this point that I had some of the greatest classmates this week. From the time news started spreading about the job, everyone was full of good wishes, great advice, and general encouragement. They helped keep me sane and I appreciated it more than they knew.]

The exam should have been the easiest one of my MAHG career...the part I most clearly remember asked about the statesmanship of George Washington. Books could be written on his humble leadership alone, but instead I found myself distracted by packing lists and things to remember and what I absolutely couldn't forget. Somehow I managed to eke out enough to earn a 'B' and was on my way.

I stopped on the way home to say goodbye to my friend Tina. I was all prepared to tell her about what was going on and that I would be leaving the next morning, but when her son told me she wasn't home I wasn't quite sure what to do with that. You can't exactly say, "Tell your mom I'm moving and I'll see her at Christmas," so asked him to have her call me and went home to pack.


My grandparents came over for dinner and my friend Kayla came to say goodbye. I spent a good six hours sorting through clothes and teaching materials, things I thought I might need if I found a place to live and things I didn't think I could live without. I am still amazed at just how little and how much can be crammed into a Ford Escort ZX2.

I left the next morning...I think I cried the whole way to Cambridge. I was leaving everything and everyone I knew and loved to go someplace I had never been with people I had never met, I think I was entitled to a few tears.

I stopped for the night in Rock Hill. I knew I didn't want to drive all the way through in one day because I would get there too late and I would be too tired. I was slightly familiar with Rock Hill from my interview earlier in the summer and it seemed like a good place to rest. I went out to get some dinner and found out it was the back-to-school tax free weekend so I bought some school supplies, but was very much looking forward to sleep. The South Carolina wildlife had other ideas though. There was some kind of bug living behind the mini-fridge, sounded like a cricket, that would not stop making noises all night. At one point I was so frustrated that I tried killing it with hairspray (it didn't work, but it made me feel a little better).

Back on the road the next morning, I made a detour through Aiken because when I was looking online for places to live (you know, all those times I should have been studying) it seemed like my only option. Aiken seemed like a nice enough town, but the drive from there to Allendale could best be described as desolate. It seemed like I passed nothing but pine trees for most of that hour. It had been a dry summer and everything was some shade of brown, even the greens had a brown tint to them. (The next summer when I went back to Ohio, I felt like I had stepped into a technicolor movie and had to readjust to how vivid everything seemed.) Nothing prepared me for the heat. I had spent the morning in my car's air conditioning so I hadn't noticed the rising temperature, but when I finally reached the high school and opened the door, I felt like I was entering an oven...it literally took my breath away.

So it was with a sense of relief that I entered the school. I was out of the oppressive heat. I had reached my destination. My life was now about to begin....which meant, of course, I needed to call my mother. It was at this point I learned one of the most important lessons of the next few weeks...Sprint cell phones didn't work very well in this part of South Carolina.

After a brief discussion with the principal and a tour of the school, I was more than ready to call it a day and find someplace to crash...after all I had to be back there early the next morning. Instead of directions, or a ride, to the place I was supposed to be staying I was instead told that the assistant principal was not able to have me stay with her that evening, so they were going to send me to a local (20 minutes away) hotel. I followed another teacher to the hotel, checked in, and tried to prepare for all that was about to happen.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

My Journey South: First Thursday, August 2006

Compared to the rest of the week, Thursday was rather uneventful. I spoke with the Human Resources supervisor before heading off to class and was officially offered the job. I was told that I'd be receiving a sign-on bonus once I got there and that they had arranged for me to stay with the female assistant principal because they knew I wouldn't have time to arrange housing.

"Overwhelmed" was quickly becoming my word of the week. Even though I had another day and a half of classes with two incredible professors my brain was officially toast. I was now more concerned with places to live and lessons to teach than American statesmanship...and I happen to be fascinated with American statesmanship. I checked into dropping the class, but it was advised against by the administrative assistant and the director (who also happened to be one of my professors). So I had the rest of Thursday and Friday to both prepare for my exam and the biggest move (literally and figuratively) of my life. 

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

My Journey South: First Wednesday, August 2006

I think I woke up nervous that Wednesday. I have always hated interviews but at least this time I wouldn't feel so much like a bug under a microscope.

I had a hard time concentrating during the first two sessions that morning, but the lunch break was there before I knew it. I decided to wait for the phone interview in the classroom because I knew it would be empty. One o'clock came and went and I figured he got held up with something so I worked on my readings for the afternoon class. One-thirty came and went and I was wondering if I misunderstood but I kept reading. Two o'clock came and went and I was getting a little annoyed. Two-thirty came and I called the school only to be told that he wasn't in the building. At that point I was pretty angry and by the time I got back to the apartment I was convinced I would never want to work for such an inconsiderate person.

By time the four o'clock session came around I had resigned myself to the idea that they must have hired someone  else. This had just been another possibility that didn't pan out and I needed to move on.

I had left class and was walking to dinner with my friend Deanna when I turned my phone on and discovered another voice mail. I returned the call still convinced that the position had been filled and still angry so I was prepared to be a little snippy.

My anger didn't last long in light of his apology for being called away to meeting and asking if I would mind doing the interview then. I'm still a little surprised the interview lasted beyond my next statement..."Uh, sure, but let me move someplace more private because the guy behind me is talking about a spleen surgery and it's a little distracting." A great way to make a first impression...

I moved across the street to the steps of Ashland's campus chapel and for the next thirty minutes talked about my subbing history and educational philosophy and what I would like to teach and whether I had any debate experience (to which I really did answer "no").  At the end of that thirty minutes I was offered a job (once it was cleared by human resources, of course).

I got off the phone and called my parents and immediately started crying (fourth week at Ashland, four years of job hunting...I was a little emotional). In between my tears, I managed to choke out that I had been offered the job, that I really thought I needed to accept it, and...oh, yeah, I had to be there by Monday. 

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

My Journey South: The First Tuesday in August 2006

By the first week of August 2006 I was pretty worn out. I had already finished three classes at Ashland that summer and was beginning my fourth. Peter, the director of the program, describes the courses as a mental boot camp and that is a fairly accurate description. After one week of lugging around huge stacks of books and binders and interacting with some the best teaching minds (my own excluded) from schools and universities throughout the country, you are tired...after four or five you've reached a state of exhaustion you didn't think possible.

I was also a little bummed by that point of the summer. Earlier, I had gone to Rock Hill, SC for a teaching interview and been told that they didn't think I had enough experience. The same for another school I had been communicating with by phone. Just in last few days I had a phone conversation with another principal from Rock Hill that went something like this...
Principal: Well, when do you think you will move to South Carolina? 
Me: When you tell me I have a job. 
Principal: We aren't comfortable offering positions until we know the person has made that move. 
Me: I can't make a move like that without knowing that I will have a job when I get there. 
...At that point I pretty much resigned myself to yet another year of subbing. I didn't really mind subbing, in fact, there were days I very much enjoyed it, but I knew both financially and in job satisfaction that it wasn't a long term option. 

Earlier that summer we had some pretty bad storms and the electric was out for most of a weekend, so I ended up staying at Ashland and went to a local church that Sunday. It wasn't the best service I have ever experienced but there was one phrase that became my mantra that summer. The pastor held out a yardstick and said "You should never measure your problems by your ability to solve them, but by God's." No matter what I did, I could not give myself a job, that was out of my hands...I could only respond to the opportunities presented to me. At that moment it seemed as if another year of subbing was the opportunity, so I was determined to make it my best year ever.

Have you ever noticed how funny God's timing can be sometimes? I had no sooner reached that conclusion and started making some plans when I got a phone call, a voicemail message to be precise. I can even tell you the exact time I got it, not because it is ingrained on my mind, but because the first morning session of class always breaks at 10:30. The strange number and voicemail icon took me by surprise, but not nearly as much as the message, which was something like this...
"Hi, this is Jeff from Allendale-Fairfax High School. 
If you are still looking for a teaching position could you 
please call Vance at [whatever the school's number was]."
...Stunned would be a woefully inaccurate description, but it is the best I can do. I had to listen to the message a couple more times to make sure I heard it correctly and to get the number copied down. I think I was shaking when I dialed, both from nerves and an awareness that the second morning session of class always starts at 10:50.

When I reached the school Vance wasn't in, so I talked to Jeff long enough to learn that I should try calling after lunch and that he [Jeff] was an alumnus of Mount Union, a local rival of my own alma mater. We wrapped up the quick conversation and I went back to class a little shell-shocked. Later that afternoon I was finally able to make an appointment with Vance for a phone interview at 1pm the next day.