It was 2:00 a.m. I sat in my office, reading a book, when
one of my son's friends walked in to talk. You see, my house was always 'that
house' where all the kids knew they were welcome. I was 'that mom', that was
usually available to talk about anything. On this particular night, Steven
wanted to know about one of the prints on my wall.
The specific print is Picasso's Les
Demoiselles D'Avignon, and to a fifteen year old teenage boy, it was just a
painting of naked women. I explained to him the historical content of the
painting and some of the political, social and cultural interpretations. I
pulled out a copy of Conrad's Heart of
Darkness and convinced him to read it.
A few days later, he said to me, "Why don't we learn this stuff in
high school?"
Good question.
I've always wanted to teach. Even though I've been a nurse
for almost thirty years, I've always taken a certain pleasure in not
necessarily sharing my knowledge, but getting someone interested in something
that they normally would have ignored. A fifteen year old reading Conrad and
looking at a Picasso as a political statement is a fine example.
Steven then pushed the right button. "Why aren't you
teaching?"
Another good question.
The next semester of school, I found myself in an
alternative teaching program for people with a Bachelors degree to become
licensed as high school teachers. In six months, I had a certificate to teach
history in the state of Texas (long story) and started looking for a job. In
the meantime, I enrolled in a Master of Arts program, focusing on literature
this time, thinking that the Masters would only increase my chances of getting
hired.
One Masters degree later, I still hadn't secured a teaching
job. So I went back to school, again. This time for a terminal degree, a Master
of Fine Arts. I completed that degree a year ago, and sent out over one hundred
resumes/applications to teach.
Nothing.
A month ago, I got a call from a college in Las Vegas. I interviewed and was hired to teach World Literature
for the Spring semester. Then I was given a second class, English Composition. I
immediately started reading the class material and working on my syllabi.
Today is my first day of class and I'm sure I'm more excited
than my students will be. Seven years in the making, today I become a teacher.
Never give up, fight the good fight, pick your cliche.
This morning, I walked in to my office and the first thing
that caught my eye was the Picasso print: a reminder that I can do this. I
don't expect that everyone will have the enthusiasm for the subjects that I do,
however, if I can just make them see things in a different way...
And I have no doubt I can do just that.
