What is
it with forks?
And how
come they're constantly flinging themselves into my road?
I was
born in Idyllwild, California and lived there in a little
mountain cabin for two
years.
I grew
up in Northern California. Although we
moved several times from this rental home to that, I stayed in the same general
vicinity
and attended the same elementary school.
Midway through junior high, when I
was 12,
We
moved to Southern California to be near my grama after my grampa passed away. I started attending the same junior high my
mom had gone to 30-something years earlier.
But, when she went there, it didn’t have 12-foot high rod iron fences
and locked gates. Besides meeting my
would-be husband, it was a rough couple of years. I hung out with people who made it easy for
me to make bad choices.
Bellflower
was a neighboring town that fed into a different high school. It was undoubtedly the most life-changing
move my family made. Following my mom’s
wisdom, I allowed myself a clean slate and completely reinvented myself. I made great friends, great grades, and great
memories. Following graduation, and
after working and saving for a year, my family took a backpacking trip through
Europe.
That’s another post. When we got home,
Dave
had quit his job and my job had quit me, offering my position to the temporary
replacement they had hired. The
possibility of a new job had been offered to Dave in Utah. I went with him when he traveled there to
apply. Of course, he got it.
We
returned home a week later, on a Sunday.
The following Wednesday we were married.
On Thursday, we packed up the U-Haul, and left for our honeymoon move
the next morning.
The
next 12 years would be spent growing up and growing children.
In
2000, my brother Greg asked us to become his business partner in a Big O Tires
franchise in Colorado. We loved our life
there. We made friends, community
connections, and a home. As I'd
promised myself, when my kids were both in school, I went back to college in 2004.
For the next four years, I pieced away
at my
associates degree in elementary education.
Unfortunate
happenstance caused us to move back to Utah in 2008. I quit going to school and started back to
work. By 2012, I was hungry for my dream
of being a teacher, and decided to start back on my quest for a degree. I proudly graduated with an associate’s
degree in general studies from Salt Lake Community College in 2013. When someone asked me what I was going to do
when it came time to student teach and I was without any income for several months,
I
changed my academic path and applied for the Health Promotion and Education
program at the University of Utah. I
figured that would be a happy medium – a way that I could teach, albeit about
health and nutrition instead of phonics and influential historical characters –
and still stay with my current company, a health insurance provider. Makes sense, right? I was a little nervous as only 30 people were
accepted into this particular program each year. But, I was accepted! I was so excited and proud. A few weeks later, as I contemplated my fall
class schedule, a position came open in my company for the exact job I would
occupy after graduation.
A quick
call to the recruitment office let me know that I would be taking a 20% pay cut
and would never make what I currently did in that position. Hmmm.
Well, maybe I could make it work.
I would be teaching after all, kind of.
But, when I discovered that the required classes were only held smack in
the middle of the workday and I couldn’t possibly make the academic schedule
jive with the work one, I reluctantly gave up my spot in the program. I went
through a cacophony of emotions over the next month or so. What were these damn forks telling me this
time? What was I supposed to do
now? Maybe an all-online university was
the place for me. On a whim, I contacted
one. I was curious to know just how far
away I was from an elementary education degree. After completing an application
for their program and having my transcript evaluated,
I
learned I was only 3 classes away.
3 classes and 60 in-class observation hours.
3 classes, 60 in-class observation hours,
and I would be student teaching.
In less than 6 months, I could have my own classroom.
What?
Well,
that’s too soon. I have mouths to feed,
bills to pay.
I can’t possibly make that
work.
Or can I?