The Re-Education of Ms. G

I decided to become a teacher for lack of any other job offers. I know this isn’t the answer you want to hear; you want to hear the great American dream story. How, through great struggle and self determination, I returned to college and finally followed my lifelong dream of becoming a teacher; Yeah, not so much. The reality is that I graduated college, only after I realized life was going to be pretty hard for an uneducated woman; teaching was a career that practically fell into my lap.

I was lured in by the promise of 190 days of service, sprinkled with 3 days off for Thanksgiving, two weeks off for Christmas, one week off in the Spring, two and a half months off for the summer, and your random national holiday; not a bad gig for an English major.

I started substitute teaching in the Spring following graduation. When I saw how “easy” the teachers had it, I thought “This is fucking awesome.” So let me get this straight- you show up for work, any time between 7:30 and 8:00; you are off by 3:30, five days a week? This is what God wants me to do.

The old adage goes “The best laid plans of mice and men, gang aft agley.” In other words: No matter how much planning you do, things don’t always work out the way you plan. This seems to be the motto of my life. So, with my dreams of becoming the world’s greatest American author shelved, for the time being, I began the honorable quest of becoming a teacher.

PACE is a tedious, three year course designed to turn average, degree holding people into teachers. Because of a teacher shortage in South Carolina, PACE allows you to fulfill all the state requirements for teaching in a series of 2 two week intensive training sessions. The training sessions were intense, and I use this term loosely; after the sessions are over, you are given an official “temporary” certification, a pat on the back, and a friendly wave. CONGRATULATIONS! You are a teacher…a teacher. You are responsible for the education of no less than 70 students.

Armed with my week of lesson plans, a Shakespeare poster, Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass,” and a pack of number two pencils; I walked into my classroom for the first time. For inspiration, I watched “Dead Poets Society” the entire week before school started. I was going to change young minds through poetry and prose. I was going to have them standing on desks and, in unison, they would sing “O' CAPTIAN, MY CAPTIAN!” It was going to be beautiful!

On the outside of my door I smoothed the freshly printed room sign that read:Ms. G’s Room English II. It had a boarder around it with pictures of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and Shakespeare. Beside the room sign, I hung little thought bubbles that had famous quotes meant to inspire and motivate the students. I bought colored chalk and on the board I wrote, in multiple colors: WELCOME TO TENTH GRADE. This was going to be The Best Year Ever! I was going to be that teacher who was voted “Teacher of the Year” her very first year!

I decided that all summer, since I would not be working anyway, I would attend seminars to educate other less motivating, teachers on how to be as exceptional and awesome as I. While my mind danced with ideas and delusions of grandeur, I slicked my freshly pressed khaki slacks and pinched a piece of lint from my button up red shirt. I straightened my teacher badge and checked my hair once more in my compact. I pressed my lips together to refresh my lip gloss, the new Cover Girl Long Last that I had purchased special for only this day, and just as I brushed a stray hair away from my eyes the very first bell rang. Come to me eager minds, let me show you all that is LITERATURE!