So about applying for that Bachelor of Education...

I'm not doing it.

The deadline for applying to St. Thomas sailed by.  I hadn't had a chance to get the materials to my references, et cetera, because I got sick with Norovirus.  (I won't elaborate.  You don't want the details -- trust me.)

So I set my sights on getting ready to apply to Acadia -- and promptly got the flu.  Again -- stuck in the house (this time with no voice)  for several days.  And I began to wonder if the Universe was trying to tell me something.

So I took a look deep inside and asked, "Do you really want to work as a teacher?"

And after a while, a little voice replied, "Not anymore."

And I felt relieved.  No leaving my husband to go study.  No massive student loan again.  No worrying about getting a teaching job to pay off that massive student loan, especially since I know a number of fine new teachers who haven't been able to get a contract in several years of trying.

It was like I gave myself permission to finally put that to rest.  I suddenly realized that my childhood dream of being a teacher wasn't dead, but that it had already been fulfilled.  I was a substitute teacher for ten years, and while some substitutes are just paper-pushers, I was given opportunities to teach and I actually taught.  And I made a difference in a number of kids' lives.  That was the dream, and I did it.  I was a teacher.  I may teach again -- crafts, or creative writing, or maybe even develop a travelling space show for schools -- but I have absolutely no desire to be a classroom teacher anymore.

So I got thinking, and I remembered how excited I'd felt when I applied for a library assistant's position at the university last fall -- and how devastated I'd been when I didn't even get an interview.  I've always loved libraries, from the time I stamped and shelved books at the circulation desk in my junior high school.  I even worked at Acadia's library when I was there doing my BA all those years ago.  I love to read and I love to write, and books have been among my best friends and journeys. I would love to work in a library again.

Armed with this epiphany, I started poking around on the net to see what I could find and there it was: the Library & Information Technology program through the Nova Scotia Community College.  I would be able to do it online, so no leaving Hubby.  The tuition and fees are also significantly lower than doing a B Ed, so no massive student loan hanging over my head (just a little one).

Although the university library would be my dream placement of course, there are plenty of other libraries and archives where I could work as a library technician.  Even the local hospital has a library.  I could even work in the public school system, come to think of it.

Applying for the B Ed didn't feel right.  This does.

I'll keep you posted.

And the nominees are ...

Well, I've decided (with a little help from my friends).  I'm going to apply for admission to a Bachelor of Education degree program at three universities and see what happens.  Since I have just over two weeks before the first deadline, I need to get a move on.

So here are my three choices, in alphabetical order, with general thoughts about each one.

First up is Acadia University, in Wolfville, Nova Scotia -- my Bachelor of Arts alma mater and where I intended to do my Bachelor of Education degree in the first place.  It's a 16-month program which has a May start date, which means (I think) that I wouldn't have to wait until September to get the ball rolling.  Although it is the longest program, and the furthest away, if I have to leave home, then going to a town where I lived for four years would be my first choice.  And I've always had a feeling of "unfinished business" about Acadia, like I've needed to go back and finish what I started.

Although people would say that with the other two university options, I could either commute back and forth, or come home every weekend, I think that would be more distracting than good.  I just want to settle in, do the very best I can, and get as much out of it as possible.  And I think that a little more distance (being five hours away rather than just one) might allow me to focus better on my studies.  And because I attended Acadia all those years ago, it may give me an edge when they're looking at my application.

In looking at the housing information for mature students, I'm most impressed with Acadia -- a centrally-located residence specifically for us.   In my heart of hearts, I want to go back to Acadia, but we shall see.  The application deadline is January 21, 2011.

Next on the list is St. Thomas University, located about an hour up the road in Fredericton, NB.  Five to seven years ago, I would have jumped at the chance to go to St. Thomas -- in fact, I have three rejection letters kicking around with STU letterhead on them.  But now it's third on my list, and if it weren't so close and an 11-month program, I probably wouldn't even apply there at all.

At the risk of them finding this blog and snatching up the REJECT stamp again (been there before -- can handle it again), I'm going to tell you why my feelings on STU have changed.  No, it's not the sting of the three previous rejections, but has more to do with the circumstances surrounding the last one.

The most prominent image of St. Thomas University is George Martin Hall, named (according to the STU website) "in honour of Reverend Monsignor George Martin who was President of St. Thomas University from 1975-1990. Over seven decades, Msgr. Martin served St. Thomas as a student, teacher, registrar, executive vice president, president and alumnus."  Well, it just so happens that "Father George" was my husband's great-uncle, and although I'm not the sort to pull strings, the third time around I was desperate enough to go see him.  All I wanted was an interview -- to get out of the automatic, marks-based slush pile so I could at least talk with a human being, and if they wanted to reject me after that, fine -- so Father George called the university on my behalf.  But there was no interview -- the only response I got was the same rejection form letter.  And that time I wasn't so much disappointed on my own behalf (because I'd already been rejected twice before), but downright angry because I felt it was a slap in Father George's face.  And to be honest, I think I'm still angry enough about it that it would take months before I'd be able to look at George Martin Hall without my blood starting to bubble.

Anyway, I'll be applying to St. Thomas, and naturally if they are the only one of the three to accept me, I will go.  But I hope that doesn't happen.  I really, really hope that doesn't happen.  The deadline to apply to STU is January 15, 2011.

And last but not least, there is the University of New Brunswick -- Fredericton Campus, also (funnily enough) in Fredericton.  Technically speaking, I'm not sure I have to apply to the university itself, but just the Bachelor of Education program, because I'm still a student at the University of New Brunswick's Saint John campus.  (It's been less than a year since I took my last course.)  Anyway, the deadline isn't until January 31, 2011, so I have time to call them to figure it out.

Like STU, UNBF is only an hour away, which means I could commute (although driving through moose-infested CFB Gagetown during winter storms is not appealing) or come home on weekends (which might be too distracting and time-consuming).  But being closer to home is nice.  Hubby and Piper might come visit me once in a while, and if I had to live in a strange city, one that I am already somewhat familiar with would be okay.  Plus the Provincial Archives are on campus (although since STU is also pretty much on the UNBF campus, they're close to STU too), and UNB's Planetary Space Science Centre "is the only NASA-supported planetary imaging facility in Canada."  Can't you just see me lurking around the PSSC?

The other plus for the two Fredericton universities is that since they are both in New Brunswick, my certification would already be from the province in which I plan to teach (although I don't think getting NB certification from a Nova Scotia university is as much hassle as it used to be).

So anyway, this is my game plan for the next month.  Talk to my references, get my applications in, and then try to forget about it all until March or April.  Guess what's going to be the hard part? :)

To apply or not to apply -- THAT is the question.

So, from the time I was three years old, playing with my Fisher Price schoolhouse, I've wanted to be a teacher.  And I have been, to a point -- I was a substitute teacher for ten years.

But because I didn't have a Bachelor of Education degree, I couldn't be more than an "on-call educational specialist," as I jokingly named myself.  No contract, no security, and -- because I was a "local permit" and didn't have my actual teaching degree -- looked down upon in some circles.

But I was there for ten years.  Why?  Because I loved it. I loved being in the classroom, and I loved being with the kids.  I loved sharing knowledge and helping students discover their academic passions, and sometimes being the only voice of encouragement they had heard in months.  I taught the strugglers and the high-flyers, and I loved it.

I loved it. Past tense.  I don't think I burned-out, per se, but it seemed that problems I'd encountered ten years ago had multiplied ten-fold.  Lack of respect.  Defiance.  Lack of parental support -- either for the kids or the adults who are trying to maintain a productive classroom environment in which to teach them.  And then there's the increasing atmosphere of politics, frustration, pretension, insecurity and arrogance in the staff room, as increasing demands and dwindling resources bring out the worst in the teachers.  A lot can change in ten years.

In multiple attempts, I was unsuccessful in applying to the highly-competitive Bachelor of Education program because, due to illness fifteen years ago, my transcript marks were in the basement.  But last spring I appealed my transcript, and now my average is a better indicator of my abilities (and a much stronger contender for admission).  So here I am, with application deadlines looming in January, and I should be excited.  But I'm not.  In fact, the closest emotion I'm feeling is dread.

I still want to teach, but it's the university level that's calling to me.  For that, I don't need a Bachelor of Education, but I do need at least a Masters degree.  If I go for the B Ed, I definitely won't be able to swing a Masters.  (The Masters I want to do is a Masters of Science in Space Studies -- through distance education from the University of North Dakota -- and the tuition is daunting.)  I'm getting too old to laugh in the face of  student debt.

Part of me says, "Well, just apply to the B Ed anyway, and then decide," but by the time one figures in transcript and application fees, it adds up to more than a hundred dollars which could definitely be put to other uses.

I honestly don't know what to do.  Thoughts?

Remember me?

The last few weeks have flown by so quickly!  I am sorry I haven't had a chance to write before now, but I haven't had time to really sit still.  But now that Space Studies class has finished (a moment of silence, please) and the work situation has settled down, I'm finally dropping you a line.

After losing my job, I eventually realized that I was not actually unemployed; I was still a licenced substitute teacher in this school district.  So I got on the phone and called my old school -- the one I left about this time last year -- and told them I was desperate for work.

My friends at the school immediately brought me back into the fold.  I worked every day but one up until Friday, which was the last day of classes before exams.   The first two days back, I literally felt like a rock star.  The kids were high-fiving me in the halls, gaping at me as if I were a celebrity, and seeking me out to tell me how glad they were to see me.  And I was so glad to see them.

It was a boost I definitely needed -- not merely financially, but spiritually.  I am damn good at what I do, and I needed to be reminded of that.

Now that the school year is winding down (I really don't expect to be called in this coming week), I have some time to sit down and lay out some plans.  I have a little breathing room to try some new things, get serious about others, and decide what's next.

Life is good once again. :D

A funny thing happened on the way to dental school ...

If you look at the menu bar above, you'll notice that the dental hygiene page is gone.  Pretty soon "The Mission" will be changing, and those cute little teeth that look like polka dots will be replaced.

In a way, this is both sudden and yet almost thirty years in the making.  It started on April 10, 1981.  I just got lost for a little while.

"People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do..."

I've always liked that saying because I believe every experience has a lesson, and everything happens for a reason.  The road leading to a diploma in dental hygiene was not one I was meant to follow to its end, but one to get me to the exit for the appropriate road.  The dental hygiene career plan meant that a) I had to go back to university for some prerequisites, and b) that I would be taking science courses.  But the "happy coincidence" that came out of that return to school should be lit up in 12-foot-high neon lettering:  I took Space Studies.

My dental hygiene career path was for a specific reason.  Its season is over.  And now I know what to do.

Stay tuned, Gentle Reader.  This is going to be really exciting! :D

Too soon.

School has been a bit surreal the last few days, and will be tomorrow as well. Our school has lost a member of its family, and the sadness in the hallways is tangible. My normally boisterous classes on Friday were practically silent.

A year ago, Jonathan Ingersoll was healthy and happy, charming his teachers and cracking jokes. Around Christmastime, he was diagnosed with leukemia, and although he "fought the good fight", Jonathan passed away on Thursday afternoon. The kids, as you can imagine, are having a hard time dealing with this, and the teachers aren't doing so well, either.

The funeral is tomorrow and I suspect that many students and teachers will be in attendance. I would like to go, but I think I will stay at the school so that someone else can go instead. I will probably go to the funeral home this afternoon. I just really hope it's not an open casket. I don't think I'm ready for that.

Watching the kids the past few days has been difficult, to say the least. Big tough football players who called Jonathan "my buddy" coming in to get work they've missed because they've been at the hospital, their eyes red and their voices subdued. A young girl losing the first real love of her life, not to a silly teenaged squabble but to death. These kids will never be the same.

Although we've lost other students and recent graduates in the nine years I've been teaching, watching someone deal with and finally succumb to cancer is completely different than an accident or drug overdose or war. Cancer is insidious. It steals away the person you love bit by bit, until at the end you're pleadng with it to let him go, and are wracked by guilt for wanting to hasten death. No one should ever have to go through this, let alone a group of kids who write "cell phones" on a list of things that make life worthwhile. People talk about how teenagers these days are too "worldly", but when you work with them every day, you realize just how innocent they are in so many ways. This is one experience I wish they hadn't had to have so early on in life. I am sad for Jonathan and his family. But I'm sadder for these kids who are left behind to process his loss.

Yay! It's the Weekend!

I can't tell you how overjoyed I was that I didn't have to go in to the school today. In fact, I was so overjoyed that I went in anyway. I was there almost five hours, but I got a lot of stupid, piddly little stuff that kept getting shoved to the back burner done.

Then I came home and ate ice cream and took a nap.

(Somewhere in there Piper hurt herself, which was pretty upsetting, but it's probably not serious. She'll tell you about it on her blog.)

Gas prices jumped 13 cents a litre overnight. Thanks, Hurricane Ike.

The Sea Dogs won their first regular season hockey game last night in Bathurst. I meant to watch it online, but by the time I got home, I just wanted to sleep.

Actually, come to think of it, I want to sleep now. *grin*

Today was much better.

I'm feeling pretty tired again tonight, but it's an okay kind of tired. It's the "you've been working hard -- you'll sleep well tonight" kind of tired. I feel like I'm getting the hang of this somewhat regular teacher thing, and although today wasn't 100% hunky-dory, 80% of it was close enough. *grin*

(Do people even say "hunky-dory" anymore?)

Piper and I start agility tomorrow night. I'm looking forward to it but am also a little afraid. Let's just say that the little black and white dog is in much better shape than I am.

Well, I have to record some marks and start working on making my to-do list for tomorrow. I am thinking that the single biggest thing I'm learning from this teaching gig is how to break my procrastination habit. There's nothing quite like the fear of having 140 teenagers staring at you, waiting for your next move and hoping it will be interesting, to keep you on your toes.

Hope all is well in your little corner of the world.

Some days ...

Dear Universe,

Thank you for the reminders today of why I'm planning to go scrape teeth. Please don't feel the need to remind me again tomorrow. Okay?

Here Comes Hanna ...

Well, as I type this, Hubby is climbing around up in the attic, trying to find the source of the puddle he just discovered in his office. It has been a deluge all night, and the worst of the rain isn't even here yet. That's supposed to be around 1 PM, which, coincidentally, is the beginning of Piper's last obedience class. My street is already flooded and it's really looking wild out there.

In some ways, I'm kind of glad the weather isn't conducive to being out and about. Last week at school was unbelievable. I felt like I spent the entire week trying to balance on top of a rolling log. My plan for this week (and I really hope it works) is to plan as much of it as I can today. So while Tropical Storm Hanna does her thing outside, I'll be doing the Mrs. McLean thing inside.

My classes are quite challenging. I have five, including homeroom. I love my grade nine homeroom kids, and I love the fact that I'm their guide through the first few treacherous weeks of the wilderness that is High School. They're French Immersion kids, well-behaved with great senses of humour, and I'm looking forward to actually teaching them for other teachers as the year goes on. My classes that I'm actually teaching these days are Family Living (two classes), Learning Strategies, and a Grade 9 Math. The last two are the ones I find the most challenging as I'm still trying to figure out the best way to reach them.

While I'm sitting here doing all of my preparations today, I might need to wear headphones, though. That drip-drip-drip into the ice cream container in Hubby's office could slowly drive me insane. (I think Piper's just glad she didn't get blamed for the puddle!)

Hi.

Hi there. It's me. You know -- the 38-year-old girl who used to blog here. The same one who has spent the last four days juggling 863,046 pieces of paper and 140-some teenagers.

I'll write something coherent in the morning, when I'm conscious again.

Right now I'm fascinated by the fatigue-induced hallucinated plotlines of the ads on the TV Guide channel.

In French.

Checking in ...

Just a quick hello. I'm pooped!

I worked yesterday and today, attending the "beginning of the year" meetings. It's not something I've done before, and I found it to be pretty interesting. Usually everything is well underway by the time I'm walking down the halls, surrounded by 1100 teenagers. This was the first time I really got to see the nuts and bolts of education, and I was fascinated.

The other bonus, of course, was getting to see my friends again. We all lose touch over the summer, for whatever reason, and it's always nice to see everyone again.

Spent some time cutting up wool tonight. I still have some material from those recycled shirts back in June, so I've been stripping them. I'll finish them up tomorrow, then start the construction of Hester's Hat.

Right now, though, I have a dog curled up beside me in bed, snoring softly, and I'm just going to enjoy being content.

'Twas the Night Before High School ...

So, I'm heading back to work tomorrow. Although the students won't be there until next Tuesday, I'll be filling in for someone on Day One. For that reason, I'm going to attend the administration days so I know what's going on. Part of me is in shock that my summer is over, but I'm pretty psyched to be going back.

Went up to River Gallery with Dr. Munchkin today. I love going up to see Sande anyway, but it was great to go with my sister who is starting to hook rugs as well. I'm planning my next project now, but won't start hooking it until the first two projects are completely finished.

Right now I'm curled up in bed, watching Big Brother and blogging away on my Palm. I'm getting sleepy, so I shouldn't have any difficulty dozing off.

In case you're wondering, I'm feeling better. I'm finally able to sleep again, which helps immensely. I'm still coughing but I'm definitely on the mend. I'm pretty sure my voice will be back by the time I need it next week.

Life is good. *grin*

Vita Vitalis: A Life Worthwhile

I made it through the night without shedding a single tear. I think this is perhaps a record.

(I'm going to bed now while the record is still intact.)

And it's SUMMER!

Both literally and figuratively.

Today is not only the first day of summer, according to the calendar, but as of noon, the kids are all out of school for the summer, too. (This will confuse Piper, as she's grown used to barking her head off at all the kiddies walking to school at exactly 8:32 AM each day.)

It's beautiful and sunny, and it's not too hot. In other words, it's my favourite kind of summer day.

May there be many more between now and September.

"School's out for the summer ..."

First things first …

I’m expecting to have a little breathing room this week. Regular classes at the high school where I teach are over for the year, and the kids are writing exams. I usually don’t get a lot of work during exam time, and I might even be finished teaching for the year. (I never really know when it’s over until it’s, well, over.) That just leaves me with the university courses in the schedule, and my stats classes have been cancelled for this week as my prof is away. I still have a lot of studying and assignments to do, but that’s a couple of blocks of time on the calendar that have been freed up.

So … I’m planning. If I have a plan, things go well. If I don’t have a plan, I wind up playing The Sims 2 for eight-hour stretches. (No, I am not exaggerating. Ask Hubby.)

One of the first things I really need to do is to get this office of mine cleaned out and up, and turn it into a functional space. I have yet to decide if I’m going to post “before” and “after” pictures, but let’s just say it’s really hard to be efficient and creative in here the way it is now. I’ll need to work on it for about two solid days, without much interruption, because as soon as I lose my focus, the Procrastination Fairy takes over.

So I’m making up my list, and going from there. One of the things I want in My Created Life is a house that feels like a home. Warm and cozy, with the added benefit of letting people in without fear they’ll tell Oprah on me.

And once the house is under control, and the office is a space I can actually work in, it’ll be a whole lot of head clutter out of the way, too.

My goal date for having the house cleaned up and a happy place is June 30. Please hold me to it.

Just so "done."

I have gotten a few days teaching in this week, which is kind of nice. As the school year winds down, I need as many days as I can get. The only problem is, I’m a total zombie these days. I feel like I could sleep for about 36 hours straight, with the right A&E documentaries playing in the background. Stick a fork in me — I’m “done”.

And I’m not the only one. Yesterday I was teaching a class of grade twelves. I used what energy I had to try to motivate them to work, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I finally acknowledged it was a losing battle when a student actually said to me, “No offense, Mrs. McLean, but we’re in grade twelve. We already have this credit in the bag, next week is the last day of class, and we’re graduating in less than a month. We’re done.”

How could I argue with him?

My Stats midterm is coming up on Wednesday, and on the one hand, I’m very worried about it, and on the other hand, I know I can probably do well. I have completed three assignments now, with marks of 54/54, 64/66, and 31/32. I may not have a clue what it all means, but I can follow the examples and get the right answers. Since she’s giving us a formula sheet on top of a one-sided 8.5?x11? cheat sheet we can put just about anything on, so long as it’s handwritten, it’s essentially the same thing. I’ll just write really small and put a bunch of examples on the sheet, and I should be okay.

I still wish the course were “in the bag”, though — I’m working my tail off on it. And I can’t ever remember being this tired, except maybe after the last time I had surgery. Who ever could have thought that just thinking could tire one out so?

Maybe we’ll get back our Space Studies midterms today.

One thing I have noticed that I’d forgotten about — the busier I am, the more story ideas that creep into my head. They’re becoming so numerous that it’s downright comical. It’s like the creative side of my brain is feeling neglected by all this studying I’m doing. It’s like a dog batting me with its nose, trying to get attention. I see a truck licence plate, and I get an idea. I pass a family greenhouse for sale and I get an idea. It’s just crazy.

And of course, when all of this winds down and I want to actually concentrate on creative works, my Muses will have gone on vacation, simply because that’s the way they roll.

Besides Statistics...

... there is one other thing I’m having immense difficulty with at university.

I keep having the urge to tell the “kids” to take their hats off in the hallway.

When so many of these university students are people I’ve had in classes over which I’ve presided, it’s sometimes hard to remember we’re no longer in a “no-hat” high school zone.

Tuesday night update

Hello, Gentle Reader,

I'm just sitting here, quietly hooking and watching the Sea Dogs play in Bathurst via the webcast. The game is tied right now, and it really could go either way.

I got another estimate for Betsy's rust problems, and $400 plus tax sounds much better than the other estimate of a thousand bucks. I am quite relieved. She'll be going in next Monday, leaving me without a car for two or three days, but I'm sure I'll live. The muffler problem will be taken care of this coming Friday, and it will be interesting to see if this low-lying headache I've had for the last few weeks goes away with it!

I didn't teach today, but I taught art yesterday afternoon, and afterschool I stayed to continue playing with the press and some paint. A few of the students stayed too, and we basically finger-painted for an hour or so. The results were quiet elegant (even if I do have blue cuticles that are resistant to soap and water!).

Tomorrow I'm teaching French. Should be a good day.

Substitute Teaching

There are days that make your heart swell with pride and joy, and excitement at working with some of the brightest, most eager young people on the planet.

There are days when you feel like it is all for naught, and when this generation reaches the age of majority, the world is going to come to a screeching halt because they simply refuse to accept any responsibility for anything, do not believe in any form of work, care absolutely nothing for anyone aside from themselves, and want everything handed to them on an engraved platter.

Today was both.

To bring even more joy to my day, Betsy is clearly having muffler issues. (She sounds like a Harley.)

I'm going to bed now. Sympathetic pints of Ben and Jerry's are most welcome.