When I stopped teaching high schoolers three years ago, I didn't know if I would ever go back. In fact, I tried to insure that I wouldn't by letting my teaching certificate expire. My last teaching assignment was as close to hell as any teacher could get, and I was about three minutes away from checking myself into a hospital.
Naturally, over the years my feelings of panic and dread softened a bit. I got a bit more perspective, talked it over with some former students, continued to work on my grad degree. I thought: maybe, just maybe I could teach college. Someday.
And then I got a phone call a couple weeks ago: We'd like to interview you for an adjunct position teaching Fundamentals of Speech.
That interview was this morning.
Maybe I should have been nervous, but I wasn't. Not really. Sure, I would love to teach at this college (where I graduated from). And true, it would take less time than I have been spending on the play (so no excuses that Sydney would be distressed). But it's hard to be nervous when you have nothing to lose. I get the job? Yay. I don't get the job? Well, there are worse things that I could be doing than staying home with my rambunctious daughter.
So, we'll see. Teaching speech is not exactly my thing, but it's a foot in the door. The door to college writing. The door to Irish literature. If not this door, there will be others. I'm still young...youngish.