The story of why I got into education, is a bit of a love story.
Since today is Valentine’s Day, today is a day for passion and for love.
I’d like to take this opportunity and share what made me want to be an educator, as it is as close to having the feelings that I have for those I love in my life — and because I figure everyone else today would be writing about that instead as well. So, here’s a valentine’s message just played out a little differently.
My own high school experience was awesome. The comprehensive site offered everything, and every sport. I found that I tried almost all of the sports they had by my junior year, but was never in the yearbook room until after I got my license. I don’t think I even knew where it was. I remember thinking that I missed out on so much else that existed in my school because I was playing sports.
In my senior year, I had passed all of my required regents exams and was thinking about college or something, but I loved baseball most. I also enjoyed hanging out with people and was very social. I took an english class chasing after a few people that I knew would be in it, and we wound up reading Gatsby. I remember thinking I hadn’t read anything cover to cover yet, and had a great GPA.
By the time Gatsby reached out to the green light, I was hooked. We read Shakespeare next, and although I understood like, every other line — I loved hearing it out loud. We acted it out in class and I took a part because I knew it in my head. It was weird. Something was happening, and it wasn’t outside on a field.
My counselor asked about college, and I applied to those that had business majors, sports, finance, and education. When I saw 2 schools in particular that I thought I’d like most, they both had education — I made sure.
Regardless, he made me take a test to see what I would like to do most in my life, and the results stated I should be a farmer. “I should have been a farmer…” just like how Pop said it in “The Natural”. I remember saying to myself immediately after, “No, I want to be a teacher. Maybe even a principal. I need people. I like reading and writing. I need action. Not solitude.”
I took gen ed classes my fall semester my freshman year, and was in education classes come the spring. I went international and studied education in Italy, and by the time I was in my junior year, I was in all education classes and English classes, and was reading and writing all of the time.
I took a summer school position in a pilot program for the New York City Teaching Fellows, and wound up in the Bronx. I was teaching kids to read Shakespeare, who’ve never even left their borough or just got here from another country — and it was awesome! I worked 2 extra classes per day, coached, and taught night school — and never realized it was a 60 hour week.
I am in my 40’s now, so this was 20 years ago. Ok, it was a little more than 20.
Point being, I have met my wife and now know what it means to fall in love and feel that emotion. I have two kids and together with my wife they make my heart actually work correctly. Therefore, I know what it feels like, to fall in love.
I didn’t then in high school when I first met literature and was feeling the impact that it had on me, or when a teacher woke me up to real learning. Or he woke me up to learning that I enjoyed.
It was like a slow developing relationship into something serious over the course of just a few years. However, when I first opened that classic, and then got to class and discussed it in a way that made me feel like I was learning about real things in life — that familiar welcoming feeling of just being in the right place, came over me just the same.
By the time I became an Assistant Principal for a high school, I remember reflecting on the career I’ve embarked upon for the first time, and I knew it was the right one, because I really loved what I did.
So, on this Valentine’s day, here’s to a day where we can remember the people, as well as the aspects of your life that have inspired you and uplifted you, and may that overwhelm you all day while reflecting.
