In which we meet the teacher

The quad I was placed in consisted of myself and three other teachers. I was sandwiched between Ms. Miller and Ms. Williams with the third teacher was Mrs. Prescott. Williams and Miller both had interns and they had been nice enough to put paper on the bulletin boards in the classroom for the fourth teacher. Although I had been warned, I honestly never realized how little teachers are given to set up their classroom. So, I walked into a room of furniture with some background paper on the bulletin board and absolutely no direction. It would be an understatement to say I was overwhelmed – I literally had no idea what to do. Add in the fact I had little time to actually set up the classroom thanks to the new teacher training on Thursday and meet the teacher Friday. As I sit here writing this I can honestly say I have no idea what I would have done if not for Mrs. Osborne and Ms. Patterson. They stayed until long after dark both Wednesday and Thursday to help me out. At one point I was so clueless I was sitting on the floor writing “Weclome to Kindergarten” in magnets on one of my stations. Mrs. Patterson asked me what I was doing and then told me I needed to work on something else because that would be destroyed within the opening minutes of meet the teacher. At first they were asking for my advise on how to move things around, to which I told them I honestly didn’t care – they could do it for me. So, they did. In hindsight it makes me smile because later I was told my room was set up like a first grade classroom, which makes sense since two first-grade teachers helped me set it up. I liked the set up so much I kept it the same my second year teaching. My third year I redecorated, but that was more because of the SMARTBoard and less because I particularly wanted to.

When we were given our classroom lists I was very pleasantly surprised to see a familiar last name – it ended up belonging to the sister of a girl who had been in the classroom during my internship. This was obviously a huge relief. I had a total of nineteen kids – the class size limit was 18.5, so this was pretty much expected. Meet the teacher went well – I tried to copy everything I had seen Mrs. Osborne do/say the previous year. I plastered a smile on my face, introduced myself, and lowered down to the students level and asked if I could hug them. There was only one child who rejected my hugs. That day made me feel even more blessed to have had my full-time internship in the fall– how people handle the first days of school and meet the teacher without ever seeing it in action is something I can only speculate at.

During meet the teacher I was a little surprised because I kept getting students who weren’t on my original list – by 1:30 (an hour and a half after meet the teacher started), I had a total of twenty-two students I had seen. I was walking around, fixing my magnets (Ms. Patterson was correct when she told me it would be destroyed within the opening minutes). There were only about ten minutes of meet the teacher left when I met the twenty-third student: Amanda. She was a Hispanic girl who was terrified. I recognized her brother instantly – although he was not in the class I interned in, he had been in the same quad. On the playground I would teach a small group of students sign language and he would join us a few times a week. He was encouraging Amanda to come in, saying “You got a nice teacher – I know her.” In kindergarten we have these huge rectangular carpets with five different columns and about six rows. The rows are all the same color, with each column being different. It helps keep the kids in their assigned seat. Anyway, I played some games with Amanda and her brother where I would have them tell me how they thought they would sit if I was standing in different locations. I ran around and acted as silly as possible in heels, which resulted in Amanda stopping her crying and started smiling some. I talked to her parents a bit afterwards – mostly her dad, as her mom spoke limited English. I was instantly glad she had been added to my class.

After they left, I talked to the other teachers and discovered they all had around the same number students. Due to all the kids who just showed up without registering, we were going to have to hire two new teachers; however, it was going to take a few weeks for all the paperwork to go through. I didn’t know any better, so twenty-three students didn’t seem much different than eighteen. Oh how naïve I was!

In which we go job hunting part II

This is part II of the story. Click here to go to part I.

The next interview was at none other than Glen Springs – the school I had so desperately wanted a full-time internship. The front staff was so polite and nice while I waited to be called back for the interview and I instantly felt at home. When I was called back to his office, the principal was an elderly gentlemen who I could tell was incredibly intelligent. We had great conversation, not just about the job but about life and the world, and I knew this was where I wanted to work. As the interview was coming to a close he confessed to me that I was one of the last interviews and prior to me coming in he had already made a decision about who to hire. However, I had changed his mind – it was now between me and the other applicant. He then asked how I felt about teaching a science class, as they were likely going to have a science opening. From what I could gather they had a teacher who taught just science and classes rotated in and out. I was honest and told him that I had never thought of science as my forte, but that I had had an amazing professor at UF for my science classes and had learned a lot. After I was finished he was silent for a few seconds, then kind of laughed, and gave me the best compliment of my life – he told me he doubted there was anything I wasn’t good at. The interview was over a few minutes later and I knew I had landed that job. His comment was hands down the nicest thing anyone has ever told me. I spent the next few days waiting for a call that would never come. It was a crushing blow and if I ever wavered in my belief that God had a plan for me, this was it. In hindsight I remember being incredibly sad, but I don’t recall having any doubt. It’s entirely possible I had just blocked it out, though!

I do know I remained positive and continued applying online and I was genuinely happy for my friends who were all getting jobs. Then, two weeks before school started I was called for an interview for a kindergarten position at Hidden Oak. I didn’t have a ton of experience with Hidden Oak, but I had done about twenty hours (spaced out over a spring semester) there for the very first internship I had at UF. It had been in dyads and had actually been a pretty horrible experience. If you’ll recall in the last post I briefly discussed being rear-ended on Valentine’s Day a few days after I broke up with Jon. Well, I was rear-ended leaving a party at the school. I had also decided to break up with him when I was an FCAT proctor there, so I had a lot of memories associated with the school for only having been there for such a short period of time. As I type this, I'm rather relieved I didn't end up working there, as clearly bad things occur at that school. Anyway, the interview started off strong. He only asked me questions relating to reading, so I could tell that was the subject he emphasized. He asked how I would set up the ninety-minute reading block and I told him a mixture of whole group followed by literacy stations and small groups. He seemed interested in the literacy stations and asked me to elaborate what sort of work the kids would do. I continued on with my station ideas and he commented about my lack of experience in kindergarten and asked if I thought the stations would be too advanced or difficult for the kindergarten children. I told him no, that my philosophy is that for better or worse, I believe kids will always meet whatever expectations you set for them. In my case, I opt to set very high expectations and reap the rewards from than as opposed to settling for having average students. He was very polite, but my comment about my expectations really changed the tone of the interview and I figured I wasn’t going to be working there in the next few weeks and I was right.

I was a bit disappointed, but not so much because I wouldn’t be working there and more so because I love teaching so much and had thought this would be my last chance to land a job before school started. To clarify what I mean about not having a job before school starting, it has to do with the fact that a lot of people don’t register their children for school and just show up to either meet the teacher or the first day, so schools often have to hire more teachers to meet their needs after the first few days. So, at this point I had resigned to either not having a job or getting one after school was already in session. I honestly wasn’t sure which one I wanted – all I knew was it was now less than a week before school started.

To be more specific, it was the Wednesday before the Monday that preplanning was set to begin. I remember it vividly – I didn’t have to work, so when I woke up I carried out my daily routine of making breakfast and sitting down to eat at the computer to check the school board website. As I checked, I discovered there was a “primary” opening at Irby, the school from my internship. I was so stoked! I quickly finished my breakfast and immediately started getting ready to drop off my resume – I even typed a cover letter specifically targeted at the principal: Lina Burklew. I then got dressed and tried to look my absolutely best. I knew it was unlikely I would actually see the principle, but on the off-chance I did see her I wanted to look good. On the drive over I glanced down at the cover letter and realized I had misspelled her first name – I had absentmindedly wrote Lena, which happens to be the name of one of my good friends. This obviously put a damper on my mood, as I was already half way to the school and didn’t know what to do. I luckily had the idea to call the family of one of the kids in the class I interned under. I had developed a great rapport with them and had actually babysat quite a few times. So, I called the mom and she was home, thus providing me with a place to swing by and fix my mistake. She was so excited to hear I was applying and I again fell victim to the pack mentality and got super excited myself. So, by the time I arrived at the school, I was feeling very good. I had always really liked Jane, the woman who works in the front office, and it boasted my confidence when she remembered me.

After I talked to her, I walked down to the room I interned in. Although school technically hadn’t started, I was correct in my assumption the teacher I interned under, Lisi, would be working. I talked to her for a while and she was also excited I was applying. I left the school feeling really good even though I had yet to even have so much as an interview.

In anticipation of the interview I hoped would be coming my way, I took my phone to work with me for the next few days. I put it on vibrate and left it in my apron. After a few days I finally felt it going off at a time I happened to not be busy, so I snuck into the bathroom to answer and it was Jane calling to set up an interview. I was so excited! She asked if I could make it that day at 2 and I said yes, knowing full well I would actually still be at work. I went and talked to my manager and I was first cut. I didn’t have time to roll my silverware, but I promised to come back after the interview to roll it. When I was cut I hurried home, got ready, and made it to the interview early.

The interview went really well. I was completely sure of myself and gave answers to the best of my ability. She then told me that I had a great resume and my letters of recommendation were all superb, and if it was a first grade position, the hiring would be a no-brainer. Unfortunately, it was for kindergarten and I had never had any experience with kindergarten. The reason it had been listed on the website as primary was due to the numbers – prior to my showing up they were unsure if it was going to be a kindergarten or first grade position; however, with the latest numbers coming in they had decided the opening was definitely going to be for K. On one hand it was a huge compliment because I had no doubt she was honest that if it was a first grade position she would be hiring me, but at the same time it was a huge disappointment that there was a chance I wouldn’t get the job merely because in all my experience, UF had never placed me in kindergarten. After I interviewed with her she had me go down to the kindergarten quad and meet the team leader, Ms. Miller. She was very friendly and quite thorough when going over the curriculum to the point where I felt a little overwhelmed. She let it slip I was the third candidate for the job she had met, so that rained on my parade a little bit. Before I left Mrs. Burklew let me know that the district requires a job to be on the website for an entire week before they are able to offer it to anyone, so I would know something the following Wednesday. On the way home I did indeed stop by the Biscuit to polish and roll all my silverware.

I waited patiently and got the call Wednesday around 4 offering me the kindergarten position at Irby. I was so excited! I was to report to Kirby Smith the next morning for a full day of training. As I hung up, it hit me that Wednesday was basically over and my next few days were going to be full of setting up an entire classroom from scratch, district training, drug tests, and then culminate with meet the teacher at 1 on Friday. I felt completely overwhelmed. Luckily for me Lisi and another teacher, Ms. Patterson, rushed to my help. They spent two very late nights essentially setting up my room for me. I had no idea how I would have put together the room on my own. My 10:00PM Thursday I realized that I had everything I had ever wanted – my own classroom at the best school in the world.

In which we go job hunting part I

I’ve heard it said anyone can be a server. Know what adjective is missing from that sentence? Good. The truth is good servers are hard to find, especially here in Gainesville. Or maybe my expectations are just crazy high after growing up with a waitress-mom. Who knows? Either way, being a good server is hard work. What’s the difference between an average server and a good one? Aside from the obvious five to ten percent, another important difference involves sitting with an empty cup versus a having a never ending supply of the yummy corn-syrupy goodness known as coke. And the answer is yes, those of us who appreciate the deliciousness of a good fountain coke can completely understand why it shares a name with a highly-addictive drug.

Anyway, moving on. In addition to having not-so-good servers, all restaurants share another common trait – the workers like to complain. As previously mentioned, my mom was a waitress, so that allowed me to get my foot in the door and start working in the restaurant biz well before I was legally allowed to do so. I alternated between busing tables and making salads when I was about twelve. Long before that I would go to work with mom and sit in the break room rolling silverware. While this may sound like child abuse, I assure you it was not. As a kid I understood an important difference -- being home meant maybe talking to mom for thirty seconds on the phone (I still have her work number memorized fyi) and being at work with her meant catching quick glimpses of her much more frequently. I honestly cherished my time with mom at work and I was also able to observe great waitresses in the midst of their craft, which I think really helped me out when I started serving myself. Back on topic now -- I like to think I didn’t complain as much as the other people. Sure, I would complain every now and again, but for the most part I stayed positive. After all, with one notable exception, I always thought the Biscuit was a great place to work, as the side work wasn’t unreasonable and they had huge cups which made it much easier to keep drinks at the table. The only downside of the job involved having to polish the silverware prior to rolling it and even though I hated doing it, I take the whole “treat people the way you want to be treated” thing to heart and I know I don’t want to open my silverware and find old food stuck to the forks. Knifes, maybe. Forks, no.

The Biscuit also had good food – probably the best grits in the world. Whoever had the idea to cook grits in heavy whipping cream and add white cheddar cheese is a genius. Thanks in part to the grits, there was a high turnover rate and I rarely had sales under 500, sometimes upward of 1000, so you can do the math and see the money was pretty good for working 7 – 3. The hours varied, obviously. Some days I went in earlier and some days I was there much later. That’s probably one of the worst things about working in the food industry – you can’t leave until all your tables are gone and side work is done. The Biscuit actually started implementing a rule you couldn’t even start your side work until you were cut, so if you weren’t cut until 2, just had been sat at 1:55 with a table that decided to make camp at the restaurant, you could easily be stuck there until after four. Luckily the air conditioner worked great, so I didn’t mind being stuck there. I enjoyed my coworkers, so the conversation was usually good and they have coke. I guess that’s all I need to be happy – good conversation, air condition, and coke.

After working at the Biscuit, I would come home, shower, and then religiously get online and check the Alachua County School Board website for new job postings. I applied to literally every single job I was qualified to teach and probably some I wasn’t qualified for. Did I get any call backs? Nope. Was I worried? Nope, I can honestly say I never worried. I always had faith God would put me where he wanted me, something he had proven time and time again, most recently with the Biscuit and prior to that by placing me at Irby for my internship. I wasn’t dishonest earlier when explaining my heartbreak at being placed at Irby for the internship instead of Glen Springs – I just left out a few details, like calling my mom during my hours of crying to inform her I was going to drop out of school because God hated me, something he had demonstrated by placing me out in the boon docks. If I had flipped out for being placed in at what came to be a wonderful environment, I knew I would get a job. I actually came to terms that maybe I wouldn’t get a teaching job my first year out of school, but I wasn’t too worried about it. I wagered I would make more money for less hours at the Biscuit, the only drawback being I didn’t have health insurance, but I had never had any health problems, so the insurance wasn’t something to concern myself with. Plus the Biscuit could offer me something no school could: coke. Eventually I did include Levy County School Board into my daily job opening checking, so maybe I wasn't completely at ease with not having a job that Fall. However, I figured if I landed a job in Levy County, I could move in with my mom. She’s an awesome mom, so I wouldn’t mind that.

You know, I now say I only check the websites for job openings daily and that is definitely an understatement. Sometimes I checked more than four times a day. In hindsight it’s silly to expect job openings to suddenly appear at 9:00PM that weren’t there at 8:30, but it became such a habit to go to the website that I found myself checking it as frequently as my email.

Finally in August I got not one, but two interviews! One was in Levy county, but it was only about a thirty minute drive from the apartment I lived in at the time. The other interview was in Alachua County and was actually about the same distance time-wise from my apartment. The first interview was the one in Alachua county at Archer Elementary. It was raining the day of the interview and I had a hard time finding the school. The principal was also very late to the interview, something I chalked up to the rain but when he wasn’t wet when I set down I figured he either had a really great umbrella or my assumption was wrong. I don’t remember any questions he asked and I got the vibe he wasn’t interested in me. However, the interview was very important, as he informed me the district had done something wrong with my application online and that even if he was interested in hiring me, he wouldn’t be able to because of the glitch. I immediately realized the purpose of the interview wasn’t for me to get a job, but to enable me to contact the district to fix the glitch so that my future place of employee would run into no hassles when they tried to hire me.

The next interview was in Williston. I got there a little early and was talking to the woman who had an interview before me and was kind of surprised to learn her interview was scheduled for 15 minutes prior to mine. That didn’t seem like enough time to really get to know us, but what do I know about interviews? Anyway, I liked her a lot and found myself feeling bad because I wanted the job myself, but at the same time she was so nice that I wanted her to have the job. It’s a catch-22 and something that always gets me. For example, I obviously always want the Gators to win all their games, but anytime we do, I’m left feeling disappointed for the other team. Especially at the beginning of the year when we pay crap teams to come feel the crushing blow of defeat at our hands. It would be such a huge deal for them if they upset us, but they don’t. And I’m glad they don’t, I’m just kind of sad at the same time. Anyway, as you can see/read, I’m bad with tangents. The Williston interview was a group interview – I think around five current teachers at the school and the principal. I could tell right away they weren’t interested in me, because they weren’t even listening to what I said. I walked away from that interview glad I had the experience of interviewing in front of so many people. I felt my end went well on my part– I had good answers for all the questions. I was a little disappointed they couldn’t even show me the decency of listening but honestly felt they were people I wouldn’t want to work with anyway.

Meanwhile, while all this is going on, I’ve become very involved in the church, First Assembly of God, and have been hanging out with Gale and his friends. One night while we were playing games, I was introduced to perhaps one of the best looking men I’ve ever laid eyes on – Geo. He wasn’t particularly tall – maybe 5’10? Very athletic/muscular and so handsome. I liked him instantly and not because I was so attracted to him – he was such a nice guy. Now, just so you don’t go drawing the wrong conclusion I was never into Geo – I was just very physically attracted to him. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a guy that I was that physically attracted to. I never wanted to date him and, as discussed in the first post, I was very interested in Gale. To this day, I still get a twitch in my stomach when I think of him. To be clear, this is not a love story, so don’t get your hopes up. However, I didn’t want to confuse you and make you think my affections are flexible.

Anyway, I met Geo on a Saturday night. The next morning was church and am really loving the praise and worship only to discover the one leading it is none other than Geo himself. Come to find out he’s a pastor at the church. I had never met such a young pastor before and had mixed feelings about knowing I had been hanging out with one the night before. I had always viewed pastors as being above myself, so to know I had spent the previous night hanging out with one disturbed my equilibrium.

They were not having a traditional sermon at church that morning. Instead guests were just seemingly randomly standing up and talking about an event that had been held at the church that weekend. It was called Breakthrough and from what I could gather it was a sleep-in at the church beginning on Friday and ending Sunday morning. Everyone was raving about how close they felt to God and what a wonderful experience it was, but they weren’t really saying exactly what happened. It was hard not to get really excited about it, though. Maybe it was the pack mentality – everyone else was excited, so it gets to you, too. In hindsight I see how strange it that they didn’t provide any details about the weekend and when I directly asked Gale he had never gone, and his good friend, Sarah, just smiled and said she couldn’t talk about it, but it was a wonderful experience. I didn’t know Sarah well, so I didn’t press her for details. I already could tell she had a thing for Gale and didn’t like having me around, so I didn’t want to make matters worse.

I was loving my life, church on Sundays and working at the Biscuit on other days and although it was now less than three weeks before the school year started, I still wasn’t concerned about my future. Then on the same day I landed two more job interviews. The first one was actually in my hometown – Cedar Key. How exciting! I thought for sure I would get it, as the principal had been my high school math teacher and the opening was in first grade – the same grade I did my internship in. I went to the interview with utmost confidence I was going to get this job – I even had already begun daydreaming about the 2/2 condo I wanted to buy on the water. (This should’ve been a hint something was amiss – what teacher can afford a waterfront condo?) The interview went well although I thought it was a little weird that she had never heard of Kagan, as I had been Kagan’d out. If you’re not a teacher, you’re likely wondering who/what Kagan is. The short version is Kagan did a lot of research regarding cooperative learning and the positive benefits. Although Mrs. Ice is obviously an educator, she had never heard of Kagan, so perhaps that’s why she didn’t hire me. Either way, when I never got a call back I was quite disappointed. At the time I thought it would be the most shocking blow during my job search. I was wrong.

In which we establish the foundation of the story

An episode of Private Practice left me with the impression writing is therapeutic. I don't know if this is true or not, but I figure it can't hurt. So, here goes my story:

My name is Florence Jean. As a child Florence got shortened to Flo and being that I grew up in the deep south, my middle name was attached to my first name. As such, growing up I always thought of myself as Flo Jean. When I was in middle school a boy who I thought was cute told me what a stupid name Flo Jean was, and being that I was a middle school girl, I believed him. After that, I tried to get everyone to call me Flo and eventually (aka when I went to college and was able to drop the Jean myself) that’s what I became known as.

My other aliases include Floey, Tink, and Ama. Floey is the affectionate term my sister gave me and Tink came from the most wonderful women in the world: my mother. Most people assume Tink is from Peter Pan and they are wrong. It’s short for Tinker Beaner Bunny Baby. As it turns out, odd names follow me around. The last alias is Ama, which is short for Amarante. This was the name one of my dearest friends said I should name the wood-elf druid I played in Everquest. You may think it’s odd I’m including Ama in my list of aliases; however, we all know how formidable those high school years can be and I’m very thankful I had my wonderful – albeit make believe – friends to help me through it.

I grew up in a town with a population of somewhere around 1000 (although this number varies depending upon the time of the year), with no red lights, and a school where there is only one class in each grade and the campus hosts grades pre-K through 12^th. Until college, I had had at least one class with the same five other individuals my entire life. You can imagine my shock upon attending the University of Florida and walking into Carlton Auditorium and being in a class with around 1000 other undergrads. I used to joke to myself that my whole town could fit comfortably in the room if my island was ever wiped out.

I loved my college days. Freshmen year was very tough on me and I had to drop two classes in the fall because I was making F’s. I managed to make it through all my spring courses and the following fall I learned exactly how to achieve success at the next level – show up to class. That same spring I discovered how to make straight A’s: sit in the front row. My personal belief is that A’s and the front row go together like peanut butter and jelly for a few reasons: it’s impossible to text up there because the professor can see you, you’re required to take great notes because at any moment they could read what you write, and when you show up an hour late to an exam crying your eyes out, the professor actually recognizes you and is willing to let you still take the exam because he knows you’ve been in class daily, not texting, and taking great notes…

Anyway, my love for college had little to do with the classes and more to do with the environment. Campus is absolutely stunning: beautiful brick buildings, huge French fries, splendid flowers, etc. I can understand why some people hate the gators; however, you cannot possibly question the beauty of the campus… even if the girls are wearing jean shorts.

Speaking of the gators, nothing quite compares to a beautiful, crisp fall morning and heading out to an SEC football game; except perhaps heading out to said game with an amazing boyfriend and I am the luckiest girl alive to have had just that. My college boyfriend was something out of a fairy tale. His name was Jon and his mom was a florist, so he was always so thoughtful with flowers. In addition to this amazing attribute, he opened up the car door for me every time we went anywhere (although I have a nagging suspicion this might not have occurred had his car had power locks), and he would make Wal-Mart trips with me anytime of the night, even when I honestly didn’t actually need anything from Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, he graduated before me and moved and the fact of the matter is long distance is really hard. We fought a lot – as all couples do – and I broke up with him on Monday, February 5^th, 2007. It was the hardest decision of my life and I thought I could never be happy again. Then nine days later, aka Valentine’s Day, I was rear-ended and called him from the side of the road crying. He was there for me, of course, and he also drove ten hours to be here in April for my 22^nd birthday. Eventually we both moved on… and I am ashamed to admit when he got his first new girlfriend I facebook stalked her. (My advise to ALL of you is to make sure your facebooks are completely private!) When I found out she hurt him I hated her. I totally recognize this fact is completely hypocritical and kind of crazy, but the truth of the matter is I have yet to meet anyone who is not a little crazy when it comes to people they care about.

Jon was my first for many things – the first guy I truly loved, the first guy I lived with, the first guy I went to Disney with, the first guy to completely break my heart, the first guy whose future girlfriend I facebook stalked... If I could do it over again, I wouldn’t change any of the relationship except for the ending where we always fought. That tainted the whole relationship.

Somewhere in the mist of football games, friendships, and Jon I found my calling. I entered UF has an anthropology major, as my whole life I had dreamed of being an archaeologist. (Interestingly enough, I had never seen the Indiana Jones movies until after I changed my major.) Anyway, my true calling was teaching. I changed my major to Elementary Education fairly late, so it took me five years to get my bachelors. Luckily I did the master’s program the following year, so I had earned both degrees in the course of six years. Not too shabby!

Being that my degree was education, I did internships. My final internship was full-time from August to December of 2008. I was so excited – I had requested a school in Gainesville that specializes in multi-age classes and I knew I was going to be assigned there. After all, throughout the entire program I had got straight A’s and never asked for anything. Why wouldn’t they give me my one request?

Ahh – I was so naïve. I cried for hours when I got assigned to a first grade class at W.W. Irby in Alachua. Not only was that not the school I requested, it was also twenty miles away from my apartment and gas had gone up to 3.75 a gallon. So, in addition to working without getting paid, I was also going to be spending tons of money to get there! I called my mom sobbing and informed her that I was dropping out of the master’s program. They weren’t going to place me in some school thirty minutes away that I had never even heard of. She tried calming me down and said maybe I could find someone to car pool with. I quickly informed her I hardly had any friends in my classes because I felt like most of the girls hated me. I am so shy when it comes to people who are the same age as me and oftentimes shyness is mistaken for rudeness. My likability was not helped by the fact the only time most people heard me talking is when I was answering a question. If Harry Potter taught us nothing else, it taught us that most people do not like know it alls… until they take the time to get to know the person.

The truth is, those who know me well, know I am not in fact a know it all. I am very self-conscientious and unsure in most situations; however, teaching is my passion so I loved all my core classes and I spoke up a lot. In retrospect, I can understand how the girls would dislike me.

Luckily for me I was exaggerating when I said all the girls disliked me and I would be unable to car pool. It turned out another girl from the program was placed at the same school for her internship. Her name was Kristen and she only lived five minutes from my apartment. We agreed to car pool alternating the weeks we would drive. It ended up being the perfect situation – we were able to save money on gas and the long drive turned out to be a huge blessing, as it gave us time to unwind and vent about our days and bounce ideas back and forth.

I was also wrong about how horrible the school would be. I ended up loving it. The environment was so wonderful – everyone was smiling and happy to be there, I never heard any of the gossip I was accustomed to listening to at the other schools I interned at, and my supervising teacher was phenomenal. I learned more from her in four months than I learned my entire six years of college. Not only was she my teacher, but she also became my friend and was there for me that October when one of the people I cared most about in the world, my great Aunt Bea, passed away. She was loving and supportive and even cooked me Ziti!

I was depressed that December when the internship was over. I missed the school, the people, and especially the kids. I had grown so attached to all of them. So, January of 2009 found me in my last semester of college, missing my aunt and my wonderful first grade. However, one bright spot was the massive crush I was nursing on on my downstairs neighbor, Gale. He was so adorable – tall, curly headed, and could giggle like nothing I had ever heard. We slowly became friends and in March of 2009 he invited me to his church and I went. Truth be told, I likely would have gone anywhere he invited me if it meant hanging out with him.

I had grown up in church and have always believed in God, but had had bad experiences in church bodies. So, I had not had a church home since I was in high school. Gale’s church was enormous – you could probably triple my hometown and still not compare to the number of members this congregation had. The preacher was extremely talented too. He talked forever, but it went by quicker than any speaker I’ve heard – he was charismatic, funny, and seemed to know his stuff. I was hooked. I came home and told Juanita, my sister, roommate and best friend, how wonderful the church was, how much I enjoyed the preacher, but that I had this nagging feeling something about the church was off. I chalked the feeling up to the vastness of the church and my own personal experiences with prior churches.

At that same time, I started nearing my graduation. I was excited, but recognized teaching jobs do not become available until August, which was three months after I would be entering the real world. I needed a source of income and was well aware that summertime is when all the students overcrowd the job market with applications, so I decided to apply early for jobs.

I was eating dinner at Moe’s one night and saw they were accepting applications for a full service restaurant they would be opening called The Flying Biscuit. Growing up, my mom was a server, so I had grown up in the restaurant business. My freshmen and sophomore years, I actually bartended, so I decided to apply for a serving job. It was the first application I filled out and turned out to be the only. I was called in for an interview by the assistant manager -- the beautiful Gabby. When I left, I called my mom and told her I thought the interview went well and I had loved the manager who interviewed me.

Sometimes in life we make comments to others and, just like in movies, the comments end up foreshadowing events to come. I made one such comment to my mom as I was driving away from the interview – I told her that I felt like Gabby and I could be great friends and I thought I would really like her. I am happy to say it was true.

The biscuit opened in March of 2009 and I was still there come August. That brings us to the beginning of the three-hundred sixty-five days that changed the whole course of my life. The next year saw two extraordinary events gradually occurring and although I did not know it at the time, one of the events would be the death of me… luckily for me, the other event served as my saving grace.