I finished my first semester of college in ten years or so. Somehow, we made it happen, and I think I made a 4.0 in the six hours of classes I completed. It feels good to be moving toward something I want.
I've taken the entrance test for the teacher education department, and should be hearing the results in the next two weeks. Provided I pass, I can then apply for Junior Block, which requires 12 hours. I feel that's stepping up the resistance fairly quickly, but I don't know that moving from no college to six hours was any easier. Maybe 6 to 12 hours will be a breezy step.
I really enjoyed my on-campus class. The teachers were excellent, if a little uptight. I nearly burst into tears the first day of school, when the teacher sternly admonished us that if we were not prepared to work hard and be good teachers, we should leave now. I thought, "Crap, I'm too old, too likely to be depressed, have too many other obligations, how can I possibly be good at this?" Thankfully, I kept my mouth shut and proved to myself that I belong there.
I was required to observe 24 hours in Joplin schools, and to do so, I had to be professionally-attired. That means my formerly multicolored hair is now quiet dark brown. I have had to purchase pants that might be called "slacks," instead of leggings or skinny jeans. Say goodbye to cleavage and t-shirts. It is super ironic to me that most of my education was stressing how inclusive and understanding of all students we must be, but we are not to be similarly open-minded about who we allow into the profession.
I was even forced to participate. We had five different projects to work on, and we had to pick a new partner for each one. There were many interactive lessons which encouraged us to chat with others in the class and move around. I definitely hope some of the people from this class are in some of my other ones. I especially liked Melinda, a mother of four who drove an hour and a half from Arkansas to attend, and who'd had to dye her blue hair and cover her tattoos. (I also adored one of the younger students who asked me how old I was when she found out how many kids I have, and she blurted, "I thought you were, like 24!" Seriously, I wanted to adopt that girl.)
The online class felt like busy work. I thought I'd like it better, but the weekly assignments usually took about two hours to complete and communication from the instructor was minimal at best. I learned a lot of useful things about social media etiquette for teachers, evaluating the purpose of a website, and setting up a learning network to be a better teacher. I killed myself the first few weeks, until I realized that it didn't matter how hard I worked, past a certain point.
So, now the semester is over, and I'm thinking of all the things that have changed. I know we can do this. I know the kids won't starve, and that they can do more chores...if we keep on them about it. I know that Toby wants to see me succeed, even if it means more work for him sometimes. I think I can do this. I think I want to do this, and I think I can be good at it. That feels awfully nice.
Grades posted unofficially today: 331/331 and 458/445, 100% and 102.9%.
