Interview process is over. I did not get the first job I interviewed for. I did not get the second job I interviewed for. I got the job vacated by someone who took one of the other jobs! My official title is Head Teacher in the Toddler room. Now doesn’t that sound prestigious?
I will be writing lesson plans and changing diapers, assessing progress and disinfecting toys, making reports and pushing the stroller around the block. I love it!
Yesterday I saw my new charges at play in the gym and toured my classroom. My “babies” are 18 months to 3 years old, and look like lots of fun. I’m sure there will be challenges but I am even kind of looking forward to that. My room is bright and sunny and full of evidence of creative teaching and creative kids.
Soon I will be saying good bye to my other kids. Sixty-seven kindergarten through third graders, of whom eleven first graders were my special charge. I will miss them but I will not miss trying to keep track of who all those kids belong to. Pick-up time can be a real madhouse! Keeping track of just ten kids and who their parents are sounds much easier.
Teaching toddlers...I think this is what I want to be when I grow up! At least for a few years.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
It's still not fair!
A week later…my friend took the job with the rising young newspaper, an exciting opportunity. A week after that, for confusing reasons, she was let go. It’s still not fair. For her, really unfair. But the other job in her field was still open so she is newly employed…yet again.
It's not Fair!
week ago at work a young lady told me she felt it wasn’t fair that I ended up having my book club meeting in a corner of the cafeteria instead of going down the hall to a quieter room. It was really crazy day, and the kids seemed especially wound up so I thought I might be able to help the situation if I stayed nearby and tried to suck in some of the other kids, get them going on a project and too busy to get in trouble. Later I was thinking about her concerns. It was kind of funny, that week we both had birthdays. I believe she turned 19 and I turned 46. [That’s right, Chris-46…not 50+] Maybe the difference in our years made a difference in how we saw the situation. Maybe I gave up on “fair” many years ago…
Maybe not…
I have been trying to find full time work. The interview process is agony to me. In the meantime, my mother has people beg her to come to work…less than a mile from her house…on her terms concerning when she wants to work. And my graphic artist friend…well don’t get me started! She answered one ad… went on one interview…and suddenly she’s trying to decide between three positions, two of which are in her field.
It’s not fair!
Maybe not…
I have been trying to find full time work. The interview process is agony to me. In the meantime, my mother has people beg her to come to work…less than a mile from her house…on her terms concerning when she wants to work. And my graphic artist friend…well don’t get me started! She answered one ad… went on one interview…and suddenly she’s trying to decide between three positions, two of which are in her field.
It’s not fair!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Interview process
Since I completed my computer class and my job shadow project, I am even more sure that I don’t want to be an Office worker. I want to play with kids! But I do want to work more hours [and earn more money]. So when I went out for lunch with my graphic artist friend [who was also looking for a job] we looked over the local help wanted ads and I found something right up my alley. Head teacher [don’t that sound prestigious!] for a local child development council’s after school program. Right after lunch I called the Displaced Homemaker’s office and made an appointment to update my resume.
Boy do I look good on paper! It’s a real head sweller. But my dear friends are so good at keeping my feet on the ground. I needed to submit three letters of recommendation with the resume and I emailed a request for same to most of the people I’ve worked with in a volunteer capacity, and got a good response. Of course I had to shelf the letter about how I lie awake nights thinking of ways to make my scouts suffer…and the letter about the eating of the fishy eye incident. But the letters about my wonderful common sense, my creativity, and my miraculous ability to stretch a buck, those I could use.
My brothers gave plenty of good advice on interviewing successfully. Look the interviewer in the eye, don’t be scary, write a thank-you note. I’m trying to do everything right…hopefully that will count in my favor even if I fail in some small detail.
Before my first interview I found a second ad for a position working with preschoolers as an assistant teacher in the same organization, so at the interview I let them know I’d go for either position. Here I am, two interviews later, waiting waiting waiting. Can you believe the hiring staff all went on vacation for a week? Aaargh! The suspense! But they did call me just before they left and ask if I’d be interested in a possible third situation as head teacher working with toddlers. So that triples my chances.
Boy do I look good on paper! It’s a real head sweller. But my dear friends are so good at keeping my feet on the ground. I needed to submit three letters of recommendation with the resume and I emailed a request for same to most of the people I’ve worked with in a volunteer capacity, and got a good response. Of course I had to shelf the letter about how I lie awake nights thinking of ways to make my scouts suffer…and the letter about the eating of the fishy eye incident. But the letters about my wonderful common sense, my creativity, and my miraculous ability to stretch a buck, those I could use.
My brothers gave plenty of good advice on interviewing successfully. Look the interviewer in the eye, don’t be scary, write a thank-you note. I’m trying to do everything right…hopefully that will count in my favor even if I fail in some small detail.
Before my first interview I found a second ad for a position working with preschoolers as an assistant teacher in the same organization, so at the interview I let them know I’d go for either position. Here I am, two interviews later, waiting waiting waiting. Can you believe the hiring staff all went on vacation for a week? Aaargh! The suspense! But they did call me just before they left and ask if I’d be interested in a possible third situation as head teacher working with toddlers. So that triples my chances.
Friday, February 22, 2008
A day with my kids
As a homeschooling Mom, it used to be that every day was a day with my kids. No longer. Now it is a red letter day if we spend a few hours together. At 17 and 19 years of age, my kids have a life separate from mine. And I realized not so long ago, that I needed a life separate from theirs, as well.
The older son, our crown price, so to speak, is a college student. His younger brother, the beloved baby of the family, will graduate high school this year and probably go on to college next fall. Saturdays, they usually spend the day on the slopes. Weekdays, I’m out working. So as you can see, we aren’t even in the same building that much anymore.
But Tuesday was different. We dragged them out of bed early, made the hour drive to the mall, where Dad dropped us off and then went off to his doctor’s appointment. We shopped together some, split up and met again, then spent half an hour waiting in a seating area to meet Dad. Not that we talked much. The wee darlings carry their portable game systems everywhere so they played some competitive and cooperative games while I people watched.
When Dad picked us up we went to lunch…all you can eat Chinese-American-Italian-Japanese buffet. We all ate our fill and then sat talking for awhile. I love the way their minds work. Even though the 17 year old is experimenting with political positions that are polar opposites of his family tradition…or maybe that makes him even more interesting. The 19 year old is studying psychology, and it seems he has a good level headed teacher. Monday’s class was about Phineas Gage. Fascinating but gory stuff.
[ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phineas_Gage ]
They also discussed seizures, which dear son found he had the most firsthand observational experience with, thanks to his late Grandfather.
Well, our next stop was kind of obvious-since I like the way their brains work, and we were discussing brain trauma, we went helmet shopping. My older dear son is a skier, his brother is a snowboarder. Their Ski Patrol friend has been telling them horror stories of his own, mostly from training but one or two from personal experience. So we went hunting helmets and found what we needed at our second stop. Something to soothe Mom’s worries while protecting their “cool” image. Tomorrow morning they will test drive the new equipment, and I will worry about my part time son, who was getting another kind of hardware [braces] while we were hunting helmets. We will get him fixed up soon…
The older son, our crown price, so to speak, is a college student. His younger brother, the beloved baby of the family, will graduate high school this year and probably go on to college next fall. Saturdays, they usually spend the day on the slopes. Weekdays, I’m out working. So as you can see, we aren’t even in the same building that much anymore.
But Tuesday was different. We dragged them out of bed early, made the hour drive to the mall, where Dad dropped us off and then went off to his doctor’s appointment. We shopped together some, split up and met again, then spent half an hour waiting in a seating area to meet Dad. Not that we talked much. The wee darlings carry their portable game systems everywhere so they played some competitive and cooperative games while I people watched.
When Dad picked us up we went to lunch…all you can eat Chinese-American-Italian-Japanese buffet. We all ate our fill and then sat talking for awhile. I love the way their minds work. Even though the 17 year old is experimenting with political positions that are polar opposites of his family tradition…or maybe that makes him even more interesting. The 19 year old is studying psychology, and it seems he has a good level headed teacher. Monday’s class was about Phineas Gage. Fascinating but gory stuff.
[ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phineas_Gage ]
They also discussed seizures, which dear son found he had the most firsthand observational experience with, thanks to his late Grandfather.
Well, our next stop was kind of obvious-since I like the way their brains work, and we were discussing brain trauma, we went helmet shopping. My older dear son is a skier, his brother is a snowboarder. Their Ski Patrol friend has been telling them horror stories of his own, mostly from training but one or two from personal experience. So we went hunting helmets and found what we needed at our second stop. Something to soothe Mom’s worries while protecting their “cool” image. Tomorrow morning they will test drive the new equipment, and I will worry about my part time son, who was getting another kind of hardware [braces] while we were hunting helmets. We will get him fixed up soon…
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
the shadow knows
I finished my computer classes with flying colors and all kinds of accolades from the teacher. She had to shelve her usual textbook because it was an INTRODUCTION to Access, Excel and Word and my 2 classmates and I were beyond that point. She found a more advanced text for us to use, and introduced us to Power Point and HTML. I created my first Power Point production, for my Citizens in the Community merit badge at Scouts. I'm pretty proud of it although my brothers go on something awful about "death by Power Point", evidently a demise they much fear.
Now I'm in the middle of my job shadow assignment. My ego is crashing down around my ears. It is a consolation to me that the people I am working with will never forget me. Every time they open a file folder and find one or two sheets inside, upside down, they will think of me. Every time they use the paper shredder [which may never be the same] they will think of me. So many things will remind them of me.
Luckily they found a place for me, upstairs in the library stacks. I spend my days looking for damaged bar codes on the books. Sometimes they are just worn out, sometimes paranoid patrons remove them…to keep the library police from spying on them through tiny microchip cameras hidden in the bar codes, evidently.
So, ask me, what do I want to be when I grow up? An office worker? Well, let’s just say…The Shadow Knows….
NOT!
Now I'm in the middle of my job shadow assignment. My ego is crashing down around my ears. It is a consolation to me that the people I am working with will never forget me. Every time they open a file folder and find one or two sheets inside, upside down, they will think of me. Every time they use the paper shredder [which may never be the same] they will think of me. So many things will remind them of me.
Luckily they found a place for me, upstairs in the library stacks. I spend my days looking for damaged bar codes on the books. Sometimes they are just worn out, sometimes paranoid patrons remove them…to keep the library police from spying on them through tiny microchip cameras hidden in the bar codes, evidently.
So, ask me, what do I want to be when I grow up? An office worker? Well, let’s just say…The Shadow Knows….
NOT!
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