A Dream Come True; Nearly 10 Years in the Making

I have some kind of big news. And I haven’t really allowed myself to celebrate. I haven’t told many people, some family and just a few friends. I’ve protected my excitement, feeling like people won’t think it’s as exciting as I do.  So I’ve held it close to my heart, not wanting to share it. I’m not sure why I didn’t want to share that other than a bit of fear and a resistance to celebrating something that hurt to lose so much before.

 I am so excited to say that for the 2021-2022 school year, I will be teaching Young 5’s. I was able to meet my sweet students yesterday and I cannot wait for this new journey to begin.

When I tried to return to teaching in August of 2012, I had a heart full of optimism and sheer determination.  It was a mere nine months after my accident and at that point in my life I was desperate to feel “normal”.  Teaching was my normal and I needed to feel like myself again and to distract me from all of the losses my kids and I were dealing with.  Shepherd Center gave me the clearance to return to work. Surely if I could just teach, everything else would feel better. I was ready to take teaching on. That optimism, however, did not bring success. What I imagined is not at all how it turned out. I was nowhere near ready from a brain injury standpoint to take on the demands of a full-time teaching position. Almost three weeks in, I stepped down and ended up in a partial mental health hospitalization. Writing that feels like ages ago and also feels as raw as it happening yesterday.

This time is different.  This time, I don’t just want teaching to distract me, to make me feel normal.  I want it, because I have fought for it.  I have imagined being right where I am standing. And this time, I have earned it.  I have been patient. I have walked the line, waiting patiently as my brain and heart have continued to heal, loving all of the different parts of this journey. I have loved all the children I have worked with as a paraprofessional and substitute teacher and all the teachers who believed in me, believed I was meant to do this.

So I want to say thank you. In a way that will never capture the vastness of my gratitude. Thank you for fighting alongside me, cheering me on, fighting for me when I didn’t even know I needed it.  Thank you for holding my hand, hugging me, praying for me, letting me cry when I just didn’t even know why or how to stop.  My heart and mind have lived an entire lifetime in these last ten years and I am eternally grateful for the love that my children and I have received.  I don’t know what the meaning of life is, but I can honestly say that part of it has to be loving others the way we have been loved and cared for over these last 10 years.

Leaving Kindergarten behind in a haze of grief and confusion and longing was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. Over the last 10 years I have held teaching in the recesses of my heart. I have wanted it. I do believe it is what I was created to do. It took a ten year journey of ups and downs, doubts and certainties, failures and successes to find my way back to where I always wanted to be.  Returning to this sweet age group, has my heart on fire for teaching again. 

Almost done setting up the new classroom before Open House.

Being goofy as always! Being serious is REALLY hard work. 😉

The REAL reason my room is ready for kids on Monday! Mom, you are absolutely incredible!!! I love you so much! Thank you for always supporting my dreams.

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