Cheers to 20!

This fall marks twenty years of teaching, and looking back, it’s been a ride.  I was thinking about how I got here, and what it means to me. 

Here goes:

My Student Years.

I was never the most gifted student.  I was never the “chosen one” or the “golden child.” I had to teach myself grammar, how to write stories, and what literary concepts were.  I struggled a lot.

I struggled because I was a military brat moving constantly.  I went to more than 14 different schools. Whenever I moved to a new place, one school system might be ahead of my last one or vice versa.  Imagine learning pre-algebra in one school, and the next school is doing basic math.  Or it might be the opposite. 

In K-12 I was either lost or bored.

But I always loved to reading and writing.  In middle school, I would read with a flashlight late into the night, after my parents put me to bed.  I would read the books for school, and fail the tests because I was a terrible test taker.  I loved writing poems and stories on my own in my bedroom. 

In 4th grade, I had a writing teacher who held weekly story contests.  Whoever won got a pack of gum.  I remember I got that pack of gum every damn time.  But I was lousy in class, and barely passed.  The last day of 4th grade, my English teacher gave me a notebook in front of the entire class.  She said that I would need it that summer because I might have to take her class again. 

I was humiliated.

English class my sophomore year, I was barely passing the class.  I wrote a funny advice column on my desk, and students in other classes would write back to me.  I joked around a lot.  Throughout high school, I was barely passing any of my classes. 

My junior year, my teacher HATED me.  She had an essay contest, and we were told not to put our names on the essays.  When I had placed in the contest, she found out it was me who wrote it.  She accused me of plagiarism.  I got kicked out her class, and had to take English with another teacher.

Senior year, I had an English teacher who really enjoyed my writing, and he turned me onto Shakespeare and classic literature.  I got an A in his class, and my grades my senior went up exponentially.

Honestly, I’ve had some so many bad experiences in school, but I had some amazing mentors too.  I had a teacher my first year of college who enjoyed my writing and encouraged me to pursue it. Later I went for  master’s degree in creative writing, and I had a mentor who helped carve and shape my stories.  She taught me craft, character, and story.

My Teacher Years

I’m now going on my 20th year of teaching writing at the college level, and I think if I could go back in time, my high school self, would be in shock.

I don’t remember how I got into teaching.  I’m the oldest child in my family, so I always had the role of teaching.  I volunteered to teach special needs students in high school, I taught swim lessons at the YMCA, and I later taught kung fu for over ten years.  I always taught.

I got accepted into a master’s program, and right away, I took classes on how to teach, and I worked as a TA.  During undergrad, I exceled in one of my writing classes, and my professor had me collaborate with her, and I tutored her students. I already had experience teaching writing.  I taught almost every semester of my master’s program, so when I graduated, I was already prepared for my field.

But I graduated during the recession, so the first year, I couldn’t get a teaching job.  However, I got hired at Grossmont and Mesa College in 2008.  It was a tough time.  Only a few teaching positions were available, and I could lose my classes if students didn’t enroll.  It was a frightening time.

My first writing class I ever taught, was at San Diego State, and on the first day, I decided to buy everyone donuts.  I was so excited and nervous, carrying a box of Crispy Cream.  Half the class didn’t show up that day, and the other half looked at me like I was crazy.  I had to learn very quickly, that I couldn’t be “that” nice as a teacher, or my students would take advantage of me.  It was a semester of hard lessons and student shenanigans.

This fall is year 20 for me.  It’s hard to believe that I’m doing this.  I think it’s fair to say I’ve taught over 10,000 students.  I have so many stories from this journey–good, bad, and downright crazy.

I struggled early in my life in academics, and I never expected to have this career.  I don’t feel entitled to this position, and I’m so lucky that I’m able to do this.  I teach what I love to people every day.  The night before the first day of the semester, I can never sleep because I’m so excited.  Sometimes I still get goosebumps.

I don’t know how I got here, but I know that I’m lucky, and I’m really proud of myself for making it to year twenty.  I’m grateful for all of the professors, staff, and mentors who have helped me.  And to my students, I’m grateful to all of you.