I was never a success. At anything. Until I was given a chance to start a school. I'm four hard years into it. Tomorrow I have to convince someone to resign because teaching isn't the job for her and my kids aren't learning anything in her class. So she has to be counseled out. I don't like it. But I don't like my kids not learning more. It's my job.
But like I said. I wasn't a success at much of anything. I worked two jobs. Didn't take vacation. I worked corporate. Failed. Left to open my own store. Had it for 8 years. Closed it in the dead of night. Drove a limo. A failure. But through it all, I believed. I believed I had something within me. Situations and events may assort randomly, but I knew somewhere, if I just kept working, I'd get a shot. My marriage collapsed. I had to find out how to be a dad to daughters I now only saw on weekends. Sometimes.
And then I found teaching. And each year energized me to a new year of stories. And histories. And problems. And I found my calling. I realized this week that I've been at this for 18 years. Amazing. It seems like yesterday. Through it, I got divorced, met the love of my life, had that fail, watched my daughters grow into these amazing women, and was convinced, reluctantly, to come out of the classroom. And then was asked to create a new school.
But the point of all this is that I believed. And learned to trust. Myself. I don't think about success or failure any more. I've chosen this life. It's mine. For better or worse. And although I never had success before this, I never considered myself afailure.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment