2/27/08

I don't want to be an elementary teacher. Can I say plainer? I don't think so, but apparently there are a lot of people in my life who are confused by that statement. I do not, under any circumstances, want to be an elementary teacher. So just leave me alone about it. How is it it that I have studied this for the past four years? Why have I dedicated the last four years of my life to this? I do not like it. And there is no way I am going to become one of those people who teaches for the next 40 some years of their life because they are too afraid to try anything else. And as each year passed by they become more and more embittered until the very water they drink is acid. No. Not me. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. Can I say that again? I do not want this.

And yet, there are still people who think that this is what I should want. How is it that I have let others control my life? How is it that I have let other people tell me what I want for this long? Well. It is not happening any more. I am either getting into this English program or I am taking the year off. Yes. Off. I am taking the year off and I will write a book of my own accord. I'm not sure what or who it will be about or anything but it will be great. Grand, even. And I will show all those who did not want to let me into their program what a bunch of wrong sided people they were about the stupid girl who applied to their program who didn't even have an English degree. "How dare someone have the audacity to apply with an ElEd degree!" they are saying, "How dare you have the impertinence to suppose that you might have the creative genius to compete in our program? Not likely. You didn't even have the courage to get the English degree. What makes you so special now?" I wanted the bloody English degree. I wanted to study English and I cannot for the life of me understand why I didn't. I don't know what kept me back. I don't know why I thought it would ruin my love for it. I don't know what happened or why it happened or what happened. I just know that I didn't and now I am regretting it from the souls of my feet to the molecules that make up the scalp and dandruff of my head. What was I thinking? Who was I listening too? I could have done more. I could have been more. I could have told myself, "Yes. I am going to be an author." And I could have done it. I know I could have. But I never believed it. Or maybe I did, but I told myself not to. And now. No. No. No. And that is all.

And I am sitting on this couch of mine listening to someone else tell me what I should want. What I should do. Well I will not. I won't do it. I won't have it. I DO NOT WANT THIS!!!!!!! I do not want this to be my life. Why doesn't anyone else understand that. Why is it that I feel I have to justify why I am doing what I am doing. Why is it that when I get on the phone with my mom and she asks me what the bloody heck this stupid program I am applying to will do for me, I can't think of anything. Why can't I just say that I am going to be a writer. A good one at that. Why can't I just say that I need to do this. Why do I am to sit to myself and think, okay, why am I doing this. Is that what I really wanted. Oh yes, I remember, I wanted to be a school teacher for the rest of my life and never return from the depths of despair that is our educational system. No. That is not me.

And these past four years, do you want to know what people have been saying? "Oh you'll like it when..." You'll like it when you get into your junior year, you'll like it when you get to practicum, you'll like it when you get to methods, you'll like it when you get to student teaching and into a classroom, you'll like it when, you'll like it when.... I want to have liked it now. I want to have liked it all along. But haven't, and I didn't, and I don't. I haven't liked it before, now, and I want to know why everyone is so convinced that I'll like it then. Because, to me, that doesn't make a lot of sense. But we have established that I am neurotic and probably don't understand a lot of basic concepts in this life. So. Will someone please kindly explain this thing to me? Please explain how this miraculous change will come over my life and suddenly I will like teaching elementary school? Please. I am begging you. If this is likely. Just explain it. Even broken English will suffice. But I have yet to experience that.

I do not want to. That should be enough.

And that is the end.

4 comments:

E. Anona said...

Excellent rant. You know, when I decided to become an English major the reactions weren't great--my aunt made jokes about how I would be asking "Do you want fries with that," etc. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but you know what, this is the time in your life to do the unexpected, the hard, the crazy.

Some people backpack around Europe. But I think you should be a writer.

Sky said...

You go, Girl. I love this blog. I hope many HEAR you and think about it. (I DO so like the Europe idea.) Nice stuff. S.M.

Julie M said...

Thanks for the words of comfort and encouragement, Anona. I think I might take both your suggestions. Backpack around Europe and be a writer. Why not? You coming along, Sis. Morgan?

Leanna said...

I think this blog sounds a lot like Green and Eggs Ham by Dr. Seuss. (But don't worry, I don't compare your future to the end of the book.)