Well, I got it.
As I was on the phone listening to the Assistant Principal talking about this job I had not known about, little comfort in, skeptical desire for, I kept shaking my head no. I wondered if she could hear the scratching noises my hair was making during my tight, repetitive head shakes as she went on. Then there was a silence and I figured it was my turn to speak. I opened my mouth and the words "Yes, if you are offering me that job, then I will take it." came out. I looked around startled.
Who said that?
I needed a "Den Talk" with my dad. He used to bring us in there for serious discussions that created a huge knot in the colon and flame in the belly. I called the apartment and got my mom. We had one of our "Kitchen Talks". The usual- get real, you can do it, well then don't do it, well then stop complaining type of chat.
Mom asked me what grades it was for. I told her 6th, 7th, 8th. Also known as Worst. Years. Ever. when it came to my life growing up. Those were the years of the most teasing, the biggest weight gain, the greatest confusion in school. I was in an educational hole, falling continuously behind in a challenging school. Those were the years when everything was absolute crap. Those were the years of my dad helping me through terrible Sunday nights.
"Oooh. 6th grade. The girls can be so mean!" my mom seethed out, remembering the turmoil of the time.
"Why did I say yes, Mom?"
"Because you are a good girl."
"Well, why do you think you took it?"
"I told the Assistant Principal that I am 40 and it is time to get out of my comfort zone."
"Good girl!" (Yes, the praise is like I am 9, but it still works, people.)
"I don't even know the difference between 8th grade math and Japanese."
"I wonder if you will be great at this?" she said, thinking out loud to herself.
"Maybe you know exactly who these kids are and you will help them."
"You aren't in 6th or 7th grade anymore, Kate. Maybe you will reach them and you will change them because you will get them. They need you."
"Hm." Reflexive kick of the wall I was near. "Maybe." said grudgingly.
But I felt lighter.
"Maybe you were supposed to be this and you didn't know." Mom added.
And that all got me thinking that maybe I just assumed what I was doing with my life is what I am supposed to be doing with my life. Maybe I don't know what is best for me, but need life to throw me the curve so I can experience something I would have otherwise avoided. I am not saying this is some Lifetime movie, Stand and Deliver, Lean on Me kind of thing. In my gut I feel like the little kids in my own little classroom is where I am supposed to be. But here is an appetizer sized experience with something different than that and I will try it out. It could lead to a position I want next year, or it could lead to a second Masters in Education and wouldn't that be (exhausting) amazing? Because who the hell knows what I am meant to be? I am a teacher, of that I am certain. But there are so many different types of teachers. Maybe, in my life, I will be more than the one kind of teacher that I thought I'd be.
Or maybe I will just be amazed at myself for stepping outside my womby box.
So the reason I brought up the music I was listening to in the beginning of this entry was that a pal introduced me to the music of Amanda Palmer. This song came on and inspired me to write about this experience. I will tell you that the video is kind of raw so I went with the still shot of her cute belly. I wanted to share the song and the lyrics. It is way more deep and encompassing than what I experienced, but the words also touch on so many of our Curvies' posts that I was compelled to share. Enjoy.