I left this outlet for my voice and worked for a year as an administrative assistant in an engineering firm. It was clear from the beginning that I was only going to be challenged by the position until I mastered it and that soon, my voice would prompt me to move out; and it did. I thought perhaps I would return to teaching as an elementary school teacher but education and how it's done seems to change at warp speed in this day and age so I knew that if I was going to do it, I would very likely need to return to school but I wasn't really sure what that would look like.
As someone with an education background, it is customary for me to share my plans for next year (school year) with my boss early in the year so that if I'm leaving, or wish to change positions, he can take that into consideration. It is NOT that way in the business world. I shared my plans to return to education with my boss naively expecting that he'd appreciate the "heads up". He did not. He took offense, looked up and said, "This will be your two week's notice." Stunned, I simply said, "Okay."
When my work finished, I found myself at home and with a lot of time on my hands and silence. Oh, my goodness, was it quiet. Somehow I found out about this neat little school in Logan that at the time was called the Cache Valley Learning Center. I knew it was a private school and thought it would be fun to volunteer there until I figured out what I was going to do with my life. Thankfully, Dean was employed and we could make it without my income for awhile.
I started working in a third or fourth grade classroom and really loved it. Shortly thereafter, I noticed that this school's Reading and Math curriculum was scripted and that there were specific ways to teach using the scripts. My first thought was, wow, I'll bet that's a boring way to teach. As time went on I discovered that this method of instruction was known as Direct Instruction and that this particular school was created to implement Direct Instruction across the board in Reading and Math. One particular thing that fascinated me was that with the way the teachers carried out their instruction, problem behaviors were kept at minimum. Originally though, I thought it was the small class sizes because the limit was 20 students per classroom. Though that definitely made a difference, I also became very aware that many of these classes included several students with some significant behavioral challenges and during instruction time, their behaviors too, were kept at a minimum allowing very effective instruction to take place. I was fascinated. It was very rewarding participating in the school and interacting with the students who genuinely wanted to be there.
On my own time, I was looking through the information on Utah State University's website and came across their Mild/Moderate Special Education Program. As I read the information I thought it might just be a good fit for me. I met with an advisor and soon signed up to get an endorsement added to my teaching license. As I entered the program, I discovered that a large part of Special Education is based on the Direct Instruction teaching methods in Reading and Math. I was eager to learn it and found my time there very fulfilling. Upon my graduation in October of 2010, I fully planned to locate my own position in Special Education using what I had learned. I arrived here in Minnesota and by mid January had located a position at a large intermediate school close by. My passion as an elementary teacher had always been in working with challenging behavioral students so when I was offered the Emotional Behavior Disorders (EBD) Special Ed position, I was certain it would be a great fit. Discovering how wrong I was has become one of the most painful realities I have ever had to face.
Special Education here in Minnesota is very different from anything I had experienced in Utah. Without going into detail, what I was most passionate about, most skilled in doing after having worked at the private school and then in my USU practicums was simply not possible in the school system I was working in. The paradigm of Special Education here was very different from what I had previously experienced and foreign to me.
When I consider this definition of voice Dr. Stephen R. Covey in his book The 8th Habit,
"When you engage in a work that taps your talent and fuels your passion--that rises out of a great need in the world that you feel drawn by conscience to meet--therein lies your voice, your calling, your soul's code."
I can honestly say that, prior to my time at this particular school, I was certain that I was functioning in the midst of that place where my talent, passion, the world's need and my conscience were all in sync with each other again, similar to my time at the eating disorders program, at CVLC (and while I taught in Nebraska for 15 years). Unfortunately, all the while I was in my new position, I was absolutely miserable. I kept waiting to "know" that peaceful place of "voice" again. It never did come. In fact, unbeknownst to anyone but my husband, I was under so much stress that I began to have panic attacks for the very first time in my life. Those attacks began on a Friday and I was scheduled for surgery a week later. I went into the surgery hoping and praying that I could recover in peace and regain my footing again. I did not. Three more surgeries and a near brush with life-threatening complications kept me home for three months. After repeatedly trying to return to at least finish out the year, my body simply would not cooperate. I resigned in April of 2012.
The rest of 2012 was spent in physical and psychological therapy, and time at a pain clinic in the Twin Cities. It was a horrible year with what can only be described as a near break down. I'm still recovering and my docs say it's going to be a year or two before I'm back to where I was when I moved here.
In the last week I heard her speak and visited with an author from my beloved Utah who reminded me of that voice, my voice, the one that has felt buried in sorrow. I can't really elaborate but suffice it to say, her words to me were very profound and reorienting for me. I don't yet know how I am going to find my voice here in this place but I do know this. At this stage in my life if something doesn't "feel" right in the beginning, the courageous thing to do is to graciously bow out of it, regardless of what any societal standards I may not meet, what familial expectations I may disappoint, whatever the fear there is in the moment, the cost for not being true to my core is simply a very high one.
This isn't meant to be anyone else's truth. It is simply what I now understand as my own truth as I have lived it this last 2 years. I am finding my way here but it is a very slow process. Today, I'm just grateful to know that my voice is still here. That I am still here.
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