Stefanie's blog
Major: English with Secondary Education Certification

In 2006, I rediscovered my love for Mary Poppins. As a wide-eyed American student abroad in Lancaster, England, how could I not want to reconnect with the spoonful-of-sugar-wielding nanny whose prim accent, impeccable manners, and charming cockney friend challenged me to learn how to spell “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” as soon as possible, so as to wow any future spelling bee opponents?

With all due respect to the lovely and wonderful Julie Andrews, who portrayed the Disney-fied Ms. Poppins, there’s a bit more vim and vigor to the character than my younger self realized. Cait, a friend I met while abroad who was just as enamored with Mary Poppins, was flabbergasted by the fact that I’d never read the series of books on which the Disney movie was based. On her insistence, I borrowed the first two books in the series from Lancaster’s library. The Mary Poppins of the page is prickly and precise, witty and wise, everything Julie Andrews made her out to be and more.

As our term abroad came to a close, Cait and I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to travel to London to meet Mary Poppins—or, at the very least, enjoy watching her newest incarnation on the West End Stage. Dressed up and sitting behind a group of British schoolgirls, their accented calls of “Headmahstah!” enchanting us each time they addressed their principal, Cait and I reveled in the world created by the theatrical production of Mary Poppins.

In one new song, its title lifted from P.L. Travers’s pages, Mary describes herself as “Practically Perfect.” She is prim and proper, never too stern, always prepared for any occasion or obstacle. As I begin my second semester of teaching, however, I realize that I, no matter what my inner idealist may want, am not and cannot be Mary Poppins. Part of becoming a good teacher, I think, is not striving to be “practically perfect,” but rather, learning to live with my imperfections.

Perfectionism has, for quite some time, been one of my most aggravating and dogged double-edged traits. Perfectionism demanded that I work long hours on essays and school projects, losing valuable hours of sleep that I might have needed to preserve my health for the future, but that same perfectionism helped me to produce good work that I was proud of. Perfectionism made me challenge myself, prompted me to learn more than what was required, encouraged me to do my absolute best at all times. Perfectionism for a new teacher, however, can be draining and discouraging. We perfectionists forget sometimes that we must learn before we perfect, and the first year of teaching is all about learning from our own mistakes.

As a first year teacher, there will be many nights when you, dear reader, return home knowing that you could have presented a concept better, that you could have shared even more information than what was covered that day. You will wish you were more organized, more experienced, and more knowledgeable of your content area, your school’s policies, and your students’ needs. Perhaps you were a straight-A student; you may leave your classroom wondering if you know anything at all. The “perfect” lesson you had planned to present the poem or the essay assignment falls apart, and all you can do is hang on to the debris as it crashes down around you, wishing then and there that you had a talking parrot-head umbrella to help soften the hard landing.

Students are unpredictable; the average school day is unpredictable; every moment you will spend in a classroom is bursting with unpredictability; but isn’t that what makes teaching such a great adventure? You will get frustrated. You will get angry and feel guilty for being that angry later. You will cry, you will pour over textbooks and papers and lesson plans until your eyes want to fall out of their sockets, but if you love the job and the unpredictable young people you work for, you will return to work the next day despite (or perhaps because of ) the challenges you know it will bring. In this way, you have “one-upped” Mary Poppins. The “practically perfect” nanny, for all her magical carpetbag-carrying and extraordinary spelling powers, helps charges Jane and Michael only as the weather dictates. She is at the mercy of the elements, coming and going as the wind changes. You are constant, and for some students, you are one of the few constant presences in their lives.

Since I’ve only been teaching for a few months, I’m probably assuming too much for this blog; a few months in the classroom does not a wise or an experienced teacher make. However, I can be honest about my experience thus far and leave the conclusion of this blog to another writer whose wisdom and talent surpasses my own. On the eve of my teaching career, I read a tiny book by Anna Quindlen, a favorite author of mine, called Being Perfect. She writes:

“Nothing important, or meaningful, or beautiful, or interesting, or great, ever came out of imitations. What is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.”

That’s wisdom even the practically perfect Mary Poppins would appreciate.

In just seven short days, I’ve gone from sitting in an empty, chilly (though thankfully air-conditioned) room on the verge of tears wondering what on earth I was doing there to standing in that same room, still chilly but filled with my favorite memorabilia, addressing five classes with a smile on my face and as much confidence as I could muster.

What a difference a week makes…

After a month of thinking about my new job, the time to begin it had finally arrived. My apartment was in order, I’d even hung art on the walls; it was time to focus my limited interior design skills on what would be my home away from home for the next year: my classroom.

Full of good intentions, I decided to pop into the classroom a day before my orientation began, a decision that, half of a Kleenex box later, I was upset that I had made. Suddenly, all of the doubts, all of the questions, all of the worries I had ever had about the year ahead picked at my brain like vultures. I called a good friend, a former teacher of mine, in tears. “They’re getting ready for college…what if I ruin their lives?” I sobbed. She laughed supportively and told met that things would be all right. I did my best to nod and muster a weak “I hope so.”

The next morning, however, affirmed my friend’s optimism. New teacher orientation introduced me to all of the staff I’d been wishing I’d known the day before. I also met four other teachers and two staff members who were new to the school this year. I remain, however, the only “new NEW teacher”; fresh out of college and younger than some of my colleagues’ children, there are days when I feel, as I’ve told my friends, like a little kid. Nevertheless, those feelings are of my own making; no one on staff has treated me as less than an equal. I really could not ask for a better group of people to work and learn with each day.

By Friday, an in-school workday for the staff, I should have felt more stressed than ever; my to-do list only grew as the week had continued. However, as I met students who were readying their lockers or giving freshmen tours of the building, my breathing slowed, my smile emerged, and I started to feel calm. I heard a voice in my head saying, “You will be here on Monday, they will be here on Monday, and the year will begin. You will be their teacher.” I shared my feelings with another staff member who replied, saying, “You’re here for them, so if they’re making you feel calm, you know you’re in the right place.

Monday arrived. My first class filed into the room as I repeated to myself my little introduction speech. I handed out books, we reviewed the syllabus, and then they were gone! I walked through the halls with a huge smile on my face; my students were listening! They were my students! I was on cloud nine, and so pleased to receive so many smiles in the hallway from students and staff members. Since August 27, 2007, many of the small details from my first day of teaching have, sadly, become a blur. I won’t forget, however, the excitement and nervousness of those few minutes after the first bell rang; “These students are mine,” I thought. “And we will learn together.”

Hello, Readers!
As promised, here is my long-awaited tale of the Job Search Adventure! Those of you who are reading this may be a few years from beginning the job search, others may already be experiencing the roller coaster that it is. Let me give you my best piece of advice: apply, apply, apply! And never be afraid to, as the old saying goes, “learn from your mistakes!”

I can call the job search process an “Adventure” now that I’m actually employed, but as many of you probably know, searching for employment, especially for the beginning educator, is more of a drama than an adventure—more Middlemarch than Middle Earth. I had always imagined the pursuit of a teaching career to proceed as follows: go to a good college, do well in my classes, learn much while student teaching, find a new job shortly after graduation. However, as May and June wore on without any calls to set up interviews and I talked to 2006 graduates who remained unemployed, I began to understand the difficult reality of finding my first full-time teaching position.

Now, the previous paragraph was not meant to discourage or scare you; rather, I hope those of you who are still searching or will begin the search shortly will take comfort in knowing that playing “the waiting game” is normal. Nevertheless, I urge you to be proactive in your job search. Here are a few tips to get you started:

• Prepare your resume and cover letter in time for SNC’s Mock Interview Relay for Teachers (MIRT)—a polished resume will cry out to be sent; it’s just too beautiful not to share with anyone!


• Become acquainted with Job Search sites like Wisconsin.gov (search “Education,” then “Employment”) and WECAN; I used these sites most frequently and found that they both listed most openings


• If you’re interested in teaching at a Catholic school, check out Archdiocesan websites for employment opportunities


• Tell your friends, neighbors, former teachers, aunts, uncles, and cousins-twice-removed that you are looking for a job


• Know what you want and where you want to work, but be open to something new and unexpected.

To be honest, I wasn’t initially receptive to that last tip; while I claimed that I would teach anywhere in the state, what I really meant was “I’ll go anywhere in suburban areas on the east side of the state or near potential graduate schools.” I had an ideal in mind and stubbornly kept to it, and that closed-mindedness almost snatched away my first opportunity for an interview, the story behind which is a good example of my geographic naiveté and the importance of learning from our mistakes…

While searching WECAN for job openings, I happened upon a high school located in a town called ---ville. Having never heard of the town before, I eagerly Googled “---ville, WI.” The search resulted in a map with a small red dot on ----ville that, when I zoomed out on the map, appeared to be located near Madison. Excellent, I thought, it’s close to Madison, which means I’d be close to a graduate program and my brother! I downloaded the application materials for the position, did lots of research on the school, and wrote a dynamite cover letter that mentioned my interest in the district’s excellent writing initiative. I assembled all of my materials and slipped them into a fresh manila envelope, then performed one last search for ----ville. This time, however, I realized that there is more than one ----ville in Wisconsin, and the ----ville I was applying to wasn’t located near Madison…it was near LA CROSSE! FOUR HOURS west of my hometown! Out in the boonies! (I know La Crosse is nowhere near what one might consider “The Boonies,” but I was overreacting at the time).

I felt foolish; I was frustrated; I seriously considered not submitting my materials. A chat with my father, however, reminded me that jobs were scarce and any opportunity to interview was a good one. Besides, I was overconfidently placing the cart before the horse, worrying about what I would do if I were hired before I even submitted my materials!

I dropped the manila envelope into the mailbox, secretly wishing I would never hear from the high school.

One week later, I received my first call for an interview—it came from ----ville.

Though friends and family were thrilled for me, I considered the interview with only begrudged excitement. I wasn’t looking forward to the four-hour drive; I worried how I would maintain friendships while living that far west. I looked at websites for surrounding towns and scowled at their tiny populations. A suit sale at Macy’s perked my spirits—at least I would look good at this faraway interview—but I remained skeptical.

Then, on the road to the interview, I realized what an awful, closed-minded person I’d been. The drive to ---ville was pleasant; I had a great book on tape to listen to and clear, sunny skies surrounding me. I happily asked and answered potential interview questions as I drove, and was soon mesmerized by the beautiful scenery. My middle school English teacher told me she was from the La Crosse area—“Oh, don’t worry, it’s beautiful, you’ll love it” she told me when I recounted my embarrassing geographic mix-up. She was absolutely right.

I pulled into a picturesque town square for lunch and began thinking about how nice it might be to live in a small town, how life away from people I knew well would help me focus on writing and developing my classes. I enjoyed a delicious sandwich at a cute café and chided myself for judging ---ville so quickly.

To add to my chagrin, I could not have asked for a better first interview; the team was friendly, kind, and encouraging. They made me feel at ease, we laughed together; they impressed me with their knowledge and amount of educational technology. When the team asked if I had any questions, I wondered what drew them to the area and the district. Some replied that they had always loved the natural beauty, others mentioned that they had family there, and the principal said something that has stuck with me since that hot day in June. He explained how he’d started out as a teacher, engaged to be married, just wishing for a job, any job. “The principal was willing to take a chance on me, a new teacher, like you. I had planned on staying for only a little while, but I fell in love with the community.”

Suddenly, it hit me: the interview was a great gift, one for which I should have been so much more grateful! By wallowing in my preconceptions about ---ville, I had failed to meet my most important expectation for students: being open-minded! This principal was willing to take a chance on me, a brand-new teacher with no connections in the district. I put as much gratitude in my good-bye handshake as I could and drove home dreaming of the life I might be able to create for myself in the small town.

A week later, I received a letter informing me that I didn’t get the job. I was so disappointed; I’d fallen in love with the place I had wanted to avoid. Talk about Karma! Thankfully, things worked out for the best; the job I’m about to begin is one that feels tailor-made for me, and my apartment is in a quiet location with its own natural beauty. I might not have earned this job, however, without prior interview experience. My reluctant trip to ---ville proved to be a valuable learning opportunity that eased my nervousness about the interview process, motivated me to keep an open mind, and reminded me that some of life’s most important journeys are the ones we never planned to put on the map.

And so, dear reader, I entered the Blogosphere!

I’m excited to begin this new digital journey with all of you “dear readers” out there. Those of you who caught the Jane Eyre reference and haven’t read my bio can perhaps already guess that I am about to begin my first year as an English teacher!

After four fantastic and memorable years at St. Norbert, I graduated with a B.A. in English and Secondary Education in May 2007. Only a few weeks ago, I was hired as a Junior and Senior English teacher at a high school in the Green Bay area for the ’07-’08 school year. I’m very excited to start my new job, and I look forward to sharing the First-Year Teaching Experience with all of you in SNC cyberspace. If you have any questions or advice, please feel free to post!

I have several goals for this “New Teacher” blog.

1. Reflection: Both my study abroad and student teaching experiences reinforced the importance of journaling when embarking on a new challenge. This blog will offer me the opportunity to reflect on my experiences as a new teacher while also (hopefully) providing insight, advice, hints, tips, and even—yikes!—a few embarrassing moments that will help make your teaching experience less intimidating.

2. Connection: I hope that this blog helps us connect as new, future, and experienced teachers by acting as a sort of forum, a place to give and solicit advice. I’m more than happy to be a hand that pulls you out of the dark void of uncertainty (trust me, I’ve been there and may perhaps still be digging out of it).

3. Education: Just when I thought I was in touch with the digital age, thanks to classes on instructional technology and ownership of an iPod mini, the students I worked with during student teaching proved just how wrong I was! I hope this blog can teach us all how to utilize both traditional and digital teaching tools in order to best serve our students.

Now that I’ve described my goals, it’s time to work towards achieving them! Tune in next time,

SAME BLOG SITE!
SAME BLOG WRITER!

for “The Job Search Adventure!”

Best wishes,
-Stefanie