Yesterday, I read something online that really stuck with me. It talked about how kids, well most kids, don't dream of growing up to be cashiers or waiters or janitors. They had dreams and aspirations, but life took them in other directions for one reason or another. The point of the post was that all jobs should be respected because we need those jobs in society and you don't know why someone does what they do for a living. And that is so true. There is no shame in any job, and no job is beneath us.
I am a Lead Hospitality Services Representative where I work. Basically, I am a secretary. My job is not looked at as being "just a secretary" by the company and my fellow associates. And honestly, it took me several years to come to terms with that even though I very much enjoy what I do. I am important at work just as our executive director is, just as our care coordinators are, just as our housekeeping staff is. We are all parts of a machine that work together to do what we do. It's a blessing.
Anyway, when I read that post online, it got me to thinking about my own childhood dreams of what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn't want fame and fortune. I didn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer. I wanted to be a teacher. Specifically, I wanted to be an elementary school teacher. So many hours of my childhood were spent playing school with kids in the neighborhood. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny that we spent a third of our day in school only to come home and play school. But when you make that transition from student in life to teacher in play it gives you a different perspective on education. And we played school pretty much until we got into middle school. I have a lot of good memories of that. And it's what I wanted to do. For years.
I had many great teachers in my formative years. Wanting to be an elementary school teacher, though, was inspired by two specific teachers in my life. Sue Richmond was my first-grade teacher. She's the one who taught me to love music boxes. I absolutely adored her and loved being in her class. She taught me how to read. She made our class feel special and treated every child with love and respect. I remember that first day of class when we went to school and had to find which class we were in. Outside of her door was a big apple tree on the wall and our names were written on the apples. We got to take the apple off the tree and wear it on our shirt that day. That has always stuck with me.
Sandra Whitley was my third-grade teacher. I knew Mrs. Whitley from church and had always loved her. When I got in her class, I was so excited. And she did not disappoint. Third grade was when we learned how to right in cursive. If you have seen my handwriting, you might think that I had not paid attention, but I did. I remember having those large sheets of paper with the huge lines in it that we that we used to practice our cursive on. Do they even teach that anymore? Mrs. Whitley was just fun and creative in the things she taught, and I wanted to have a classroom like that one day.
I remember all of my elementary school teachers. Mrs. Shell, Mrs. McClarty, Mrs. Thaxton, Mrs. Carson. They were all such great teachers. And never once did I feel like I was being taught how to take an end of year test. Yes, we prepped for the CAT tests and there was pressure to do well on them. However, quality of the learning is what made it so special. And that was because of the teachers. And that was my dream for so many years. It is what I wanted to do with my life. My parents both began their careers as teachers. Grandmother and all of her siblings were teachers. It was in my blood. But it was not to be. Why I did not become a teacher is a story for another day. In the meantime, I am going to enjoy those memories and say thank you for the inspiration.
