Borderline job
It's been nearly a year since I was employed in a full-time capacity. Since then, I've learned to walk in faith. I'd like to tell you it's been a great walk and a wonderful experience. In reality, it's been so hard, so frustrating, so painful at times, and so wonderful an experience, kind of a holy slap of "thanks, I needed that." However, I don't wish it on anyone.
Going back to school to get certified to teach K-12 Spanish came, as my one friend on the state board of education told me, "about a year too late for jobs, Robin." He's right. Oh, there will be some last-minute frenzy to fill slots in late August, but at any given time, there may be four to six public school job openings in the state of Ohio for Spanish.
Before I was hired, I'd spent hours, days, weeks and months on a journey to better myself and prepare me for whatever God wanted me to do. Again, it wasn't a walk in the park; it was a crawl up a mountain. It hurt.
The world of education has changed. The savvy students are looking a year in advance, and making contacts, networking and using any angle they can, to fish out possible retiring teachers, or ones who are unhappy where they are. We're told to go to job fairs in the winter and spring, start applying for jobs in March or April, and if one is not employed by July 1, it's not looking good. Start filling out substitute teaching papers. During college-wide student teaching meetings, I'd look over the sea of young faces and wanted to yell, "Listen, kids, do you know how blessed you are to be young, and excited? Do you? If you get a job offer, you take it and be grateful! Just don't take a job offer for me!"
Along the way, I had some encouragement from teachers who went back to school and got their degrees and found good jobs. They are in the math and science end of things, and I had a fellow colleague and former high school teacher at Wayne College talk me out of the tree many times. Darcy would remind me, "August is another ball game. July is dead. I got hired 10 days before school started. Remember, Robin, when you don't get hired by a district you've applied at, or gone to an interview and were not selected, do not take it personal."
Darcy's words kept echoing in my ear. I didn't take it personal, until I wasn't hired by the first district where I interviewed. I didn't take it personally, until I didn't hear from any one of the 10-11 places where I initially applied. I stopped counting how many applications I sent out, the number of printer cartridges and packs of resume paper I had to buy. I changed up my interview outfits, foolishly thinking one might be luckier than another. I rearranged my all-important student teaching portfolio on a near-weekly basis. I tried to tell anyone who asked (and many who didn't ) how the job search was going that I was calm, cool and collected.
Staying calm is a hard task. God and I had intense conversations. I prayed a lot, and got frustrated. I knew the test was part of the plan. However, like any other mortal, I don't always get God's plan. The lowest day in a long time came, and I knew it would happen, when a young former classmate gleefully announced she'd been hired for a job which I also coveted. I burst into tears. I was happy for the girl, and I knew she needed work too, but it just seemed so unfair. I wept for a long time that day. Then I did something radical: I began to pray for the other graduates, all half my age, also looking for work. I prayed in earnest they would find a job. To say it was easy would be a lie; it wasn't. But I did it. Over and over and over.
My friend Darcy told me that when the job comes available, it will happen very quickly, in a matter of a couple of days, and I won't expect it. I clung to that hope, while searching special job sites and district sites every day. To this day, when I log on the Internet, I automatically move the mouse to the bookmarked sites, as if I'm going to look for work.
Something forced me to drive to Massillon and buy more resume paper the hot July day I saw the job opening. I knew I could send it in the following day and still beat the Thursday deadline, but I felt totally compelled to go, spend the last of what I had, to buy that paper and postage to send my application pack, just before the post office closed on Tuesday evening. In less than 48 hours, I was speaking on the phone to the principal, setting up an interview for Friday morning.
Thursday, I knew I had enough gas in my car to drive to have coffee with a friend and then to pick up my small writing paycheck the following day. The interview would now take up all of that gas. I borrowed some money from my mother, and when I told my friend I needed to get some gas, she offered me her grocery gas rewards card to put more gas in than I planned.
We talked faith that night that I felt ready to accept whatever happened with this interview. If it led to the job, great, if not, I was ready to begin filling out sub paperwork and prepare for a tough winter. And I felt totally at peace, for the first time.
Friday afternoon, my mentor teacher from Massillon Washington phoned me to tell me she'd been called as one of my references, and they liked me. A lot. Me? They liked me? I knew they had interviews on Monday morning. I was just sure The Right Candidate would waltz in there at 9 a.m. on Monday and sweep the rug out from under my feet. The weekend was long and hard. I did a lot of praying and being good, as if God was expecting me to be some angel.
Monday morning, at 9:50 a.m., I received a call while driving, from the principal. I pulled off the road to listen to him tell me, in the most unbelievable fashion, how much he, the assistant principal and the other Spanish teacher liked me. The liked me! I felt like Sally Field, wanting to say, "you like me! You really like me? Is this a joke?" It wasn't.
Before I called my sister, my mother, and anyone else I could think of, I caught my breath, and thought about the person who was interviewed on Monday, in the minutes before the call was made to me. I prayed for them, praying they too, would find a job and know that euphoria.
So here's my testimony: I learned, in about 12 months, that I can live with what I have. I was abundantly blessed. I freely acknowledge that. My sister was very generous and supportive, as were my parents. Many friends prayed for me. I swallowed my pride and let them pick up the tab when they offered. Many of them told me they cried when they learned I was hired. The morning of my interview, I picked up my copy of Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest. Instead of opening to the July 15 devotional for the day, it landed on July 28. That devotional, as I sat, stunned, reading, is about the presence of God in the walk, not the destination. The destination is the walk of faith. We hear that all the time, and when we're struggling, those words are cold comfort. That morning, they whispered a warm confidence in my ear.
I'm not going to get rich. I am, however, going to make more money than I've ever made, and be able to pay my bills and student loans, set up an emergency fund account, and continue to live frugally. I've learned, through the grace of God and His timeline, that I can live on 78 cents in my checking account, don't need any more CDs, can read 10-cent garage sale or library books, my DVD collection is just fine, and don't have to travel all over God's green earth every day in my car.
We began to eat the food we actually have stored in our pantry, fridge and freezer, and had less to buy and less to throw away. My friends don't and never have, expected me to foot the bill, buy treats and trinkets, or go out on the town. They liked me unemployed, too. Once I realized I'd be back on full-time employment, I really couldn't think of one extra thing I wanted to buy. It was amazing!
Most importantly, as I continue to remind myself, whether or not the stapler is in hand, God is in control. The school district He chose for me is a good one. I truly like the administration and my fellow Spanish teacher. Everyone I've met has been very nice. Many of the district students are farm kids, raised just like me. Every aspect has God's touch. I waited so long for that moment to come, and when it did, it seemed like the job had been there, waiting on me to get where God needed me to be in life.
Thank God for mountain crawls. And staplers.