Like many authors have said before, I have been writing since I could remember. Well, I can remember when I took to writing, or maybe, writing took to me. First grade, when I really learned my letters. I was amazed at how those twenty-six combinations of lines, dots, circles could compose words, words sentences, sentences paragraphs. So wrote.
In addition to this blog, books, I am also an Independent Contractor for Fansided, writing for Bear Goggles On.
Why English? Technically, I’ve done well in all subjects – science and math and English, so I could have gone a few different directions. Unlike that petty saying, “Those who can do, those who can’t teach,” I wanted to become a teacher to teach. The only way I could be effective would be though teaching English. The morals, lessons, conflicts, situations illustrated through literature could provide me with the springboard to really make an impact on students’ lives. I could not see how I could possibly affect these teens by teaching photosynthesis or the Pythagorean theorem.
With my diploma in hand, I applied for just about every single high school that had an English teaching position open to start in August, 2001 in the Chicagoland suburbs. (I knew I couldn’t apply to teach in Chicago since I did not live there; it’s their silly rule, not mine.) Thornton Fractional South was the first school to call me; during the weeks between my wedding and my honeymoon, I was hired to fill one of four openings.
Thornton Fractional South High School is one of three schools in District 215. I’ve been told the “fractional” is the equivalent to “half.” This explains why there are so many schools with the name of “Thornton,” even though all are different. Its doors opened in 1958 to provide educational opportunities for the booming blue collar population post-World War II provided.
My first two years were spent roaming among three classrooms like a beggar who searches for treasures in garbage cans; my cart was not for shopping, but for with shelves for me to meander freely searching for students who wanted to learn. I fully stocked my green cart with all of the forms, supplies, and materials I needed for my lessons. To and fro I would go back to my desk, which provided me shelter in a quiet, stuffy back room hidden between two classrooms.
Once I paid my dues in full, I was housed in one classroom then a second. My home is room 236, where I help students become people they want to be. Despite my efforts, some students are able to figure their lives out, while others still need more time. I just hope I provided them with some sort of learning opportunities, even if the time spent was to get to know me.
About National Board Certification: