Freedom, New Hampshire 2001
Literary lore suggests, Hemingway was once provoked to write a story in only six words. How did he respond? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
Here is my story: Two Year Itch, Vagabond Changes World
You can stop here or you can read the lanky translation below.
With only 23 days of work left, well actually only 20 since I've strategically horded my personal days to the bitter end, I've had the normal demons rattling around in my head. It seems that I am the only person who stays at a job for a maximum of two years. In fact, there is a very small part of me that is so excited to stay at a job for more than two years, but a small piece of fear also resides in the deep, dark, depths of my noggin; am I capable of doing such a thing? You see, my first three 'real' jobs were seasonal. I worked 11-12 hour days for three months at a time and then had three months off work. For those of you who know my current work ethic, this may be shocking. But, yes. I worked really, really long work days once upon a time. Now-a-days, I am a get in, get out type of gal.
Let's go back... something about that intro implied that I did some kind of work before my 'real' jobs. Here it is, get ready to laugh...I worked at Victoria's Secret in the mall. It was great! Discounts on bras and undies and after work happy hours at T.G.I Fridays; what else does a college student desire? To be honest with you, I mostly hated it; surprise. My boss would always want me to sell the 5 for $25 panty promotions and I was not the panty-pushing-type-o-floozie they were looking for. So, I would take really, really long bathroom breaks. Except that I wasn't going to the bathroom. I would just sit because my feet really hurt in those fancy shoes and I couldn't bear to greet and stalk the next person who strolled into the store. Ok, enough wandering down memory lane.
At the end of my first seasonal job in New Hampshire I met Sammy; the love of my life. As he was beginning his career of seasonalism, I moved about 30 minutes down the road to work as a backcountry guide where I worked 7 days on 7 off. During my 7 days off, I climbed and recreated with the other guides who I lived and worked with....and went down to visit Sam. Hawaii was next. A three month stint on the north shore of Oahu where I lived just a stones throw away from the fierce ocean waves. However, this was my first time working a seasonal job with a 'friend'. But this end of season was awkwardly different. As the job was dwindling down, Sam and I were enjoying each other's company more and more. Just a few weeks before we made the commitment to date, in that weird unspoken way that early 20 somethings do, we sat down and talked about the possibility of moving on to our next job together. Where to go?...California. We flew back to the mainland and started another seasonal job at Naturalists at Large. This job was even more vagabond then the rest. We lived out of his Nissan Altima and worked up and down the gorgeous state, where I was born and raised for the first 22 years of life. One week we worked in Catalina Island teaching marine biology, next in Joshua Tree teaching geology, and the next Santa Cruz. And this is how it went; each week, a new place. We completed our three months, went to Northern Arizona to work/snowboard, and returned to California for round two with Naturalists at Large. Somewhere in the midst of our second season, the idea to teach internationally arose, but don't think of it how Jesus arose...it was a little different from my vague understanding of the whole Jesus fable. Anywho, we wanted to be international teachers. But crap. There was a glitch. I did not (and still do not) have a teaching degree. Sam had a degree in teaching and mine in Sociology with an emphasis in medical epidemiology. My only saving grace was the three years of experience I just racked up working with students of various ages...but that still wouldn't be enough.
Rewind three years: How did I even arrive into the sphere of working with students with such an odd degree? Well, one or two weeks after graduating from Cal State Long Beach, I had the amazing idea to hop onto a Greyhound bus for the east coast Phish Tour. At the end of the tour, I was headed back west and I met two people my age who worked for Nature's Classroom. I literally lined up a phone interview at the next stop-over and by the time I arrived back in California, I was packing up my stuff for Freedom, New Hampshire.
Sam and I arrived in Pinetop, Arizona where he had scored his first classroom teaching job in a fifth grade classroom. I went straight for the Apache Indian Reservation and landed a job teaching second grade. How GREAT!, but what the hell did I know about teaching in a classroom? Well, fortunately I figured it out somehow. After a year in second grade, I received a job working at a school just 1 mile from our house. I was a long term sub at a Junior High School where I enacted the role of a civics teacher. About the most exciting thing that happened during this brief stint was one day during first period.
Me: Good morning, open your books to page 82.
Student: Ohh crap, my book has writing in it.
Me: Can you just erase it?
Student: No, it is in permanent marker and you are going to want and see it
Me: ok, bring it up.
Meanwhile, the whole classroom sat in silence watching this whole scenario....
Me (looking at the book): well, I don't think anyone knows this for a fact.
Just what is it that the book had written in it with black permanent marker, you ask???
MS. FARRELL SUCKS BIG DICK
Anywho, this was my introduction to working with Junior High aged students in a classroom. The student was suspended, me and my friends sat around laughing about it, and life went on.
At the end of my 6 months, I went on to another long term sub position at McNary. McNary was another portion of the reservation that was located just on the outskirts of Pinetop. We typically referred to it as, McScary because it was super ghetto. When I walked in for my first day as the new art teacher, Farron McKinney yelled across the room, after my introduction by the principal: 'Hey Ms. Farrell, where da weed at'? For those of you who missed out on knowing me in my 20's, I had dreadlocks. I had dreadlocks for just under 10 years; my entire 20's. If you didn't know this, click here to check me out.
After racking up two years of experience teaching in a fifth grade classroom, we packed up our bags and headed to Quito, Ecuador. Our dream had come true, we had manifested it (whatever the hell that new-agey saying means). One small problem though. Sam had a job and I didn't. Fortunately, the 7th grade science teacher arrived to Quito, freaked out, and left. And, yours truly was now teaching 7th grade science just next door to her husband who taught 6th grade science. Two years later, we were in Anaco, Venezuela, one year later, Salt Lake City, Utah.
To date, we have actually set a record for 'staying put'. We arrived on Beth and Brandon's sofa at the end of January 2009. And here we are in 2012...still kickin' it in the same place. Although, I have to admit that we moved out of our apartment, last year, because we were feeling the itch and needed some change. And after just one year in our new place, we will start packing our belongings in July for another life adventure to Mexico.
So, you see. Being still, motionless, stagnant in regards to my profession and the places I reside is not the route I have chosen in this life. And at times I feel guilt. I feel that something must be wrong with me and begin wondering how I can change this unfavorable quality that others don't seem to possess...was it the orange and green plaid room I had as a child? I wonder if I am 'that person' who is not willing to grow up and become a professional. I struggle to explain that I see teaching internationally as an upward step in my own career. This career that is my don; my calling, in which I have no certificate or license but have performed for the past eight years inside a classroom. One that I think I am really good at! One that I think has the capability of changing the world!
At times, I even labor to explain that the international teaching circuit is a valid career that is taken seriously. Until, yesterday. I received another e-mail from the International Schools Review, but this time something stopped me from instantly deleting it. I read the e-mail and believe it or not, there are people in the world just like me! Who work at a job for an average of two years (and sometimes less)! Here is the article and the survey, that for now, has soothed the battle in my brain:
How Do International Educators See Their Career? ...Our Survey proved quite revealing and may well change the way international educators are perceived. Statistics show that the majority of international teachers (71%) view overseas teaching as a lifelong career. On the flip side, just 28% of survey participants said international teaching was merely a short-term adventure. Regarding life in the classroom, Survey responders reiterated that when employed overseas they feel free to practice their craft, unlike back home where bureaucracy often kills creativity and innovation in the classroom. Concerning relationships formed overseas, one teacher reported: "I seem to thrive better, both professionally and socially, overseas than at home." Another teacher said, "I never thought I could feel such a strong sense of belonging so far away from my home base." In our estimation, these teachers speak for many of us.
Here is my story: Two Year Itch, Vagabond Changes World
You can stop here or you can read the lanky translation below.
With only 23 days of work left, well actually only 20 since I've strategically horded my personal days to the bitter end, I've had the normal demons rattling around in my head. It seems that I am the only person who stays at a job for a maximum of two years. In fact, there is a very small part of me that is so excited to stay at a job for more than two years, but a small piece of fear also resides in the deep, dark, depths of my noggin; am I capable of doing such a thing? You see, my first three 'real' jobs were seasonal. I worked 11-12 hour days for three months at a time and then had three months off work. For those of you who know my current work ethic, this may be shocking. But, yes. I worked really, really long work days once upon a time. Now-a-days, I am a get in, get out type of gal.
Let's go back... something about that intro implied that I did some kind of work before my 'real' jobs. Here it is, get ready to laugh...I worked at Victoria's Secret in the mall. It was great! Discounts on bras and undies and after work happy hours at T.G.I Fridays; what else does a college student desire? To be honest with you, I mostly hated it; surprise. My boss would always want me to sell the 5 for $25 panty promotions and I was not the panty-pushing-type-o-floozie they were looking for. So, I would take really, really long bathroom breaks. Except that I wasn't going to the bathroom. I would just sit because my feet really hurt in those fancy shoes and I couldn't bear to greet and stalk the next person who strolled into the store. Ok, enough wandering down memory lane.
At the end of my first seasonal job in New Hampshire I met Sammy; the love of my life. As he was beginning his career of seasonalism, I moved about 30 minutes down the road to work as a backcountry guide where I worked 7 days on 7 off. During my 7 days off, I climbed and recreated with the other guides who I lived and worked with....and went down to visit Sam. Hawaii was next. A three month stint on the north shore of Oahu where I lived just a stones throw away from the fierce ocean waves. However, this was my first time working a seasonal job with a 'friend'. But this end of season was awkwardly different. As the job was dwindling down, Sam and I were enjoying each other's company more and more. Just a few weeks before we made the commitment to date, in that weird unspoken way that early 20 somethings do, we sat down and talked about the possibility of moving on to our next job together. Where to go?...California. We flew back to the mainland and started another seasonal job at Naturalists at Large. This job was even more vagabond then the rest. We lived out of his Nissan Altima and worked up and down the gorgeous state, where I was born and raised for the first 22 years of life. One week we worked in Catalina Island teaching marine biology, next in Joshua Tree teaching geology, and the next Santa Cruz. And this is how it went; each week, a new place. We completed our three months, went to Northern Arizona to work/snowboard, and returned to California for round two with Naturalists at Large. Somewhere in the midst of our second season, the idea to teach internationally arose, but don't think of it how Jesus arose...it was a little different from my vague understanding of the whole Jesus fable. Anywho, we wanted to be international teachers. But crap. There was a glitch. I did not (and still do not) have a teaching degree. Sam had a degree in teaching and mine in Sociology with an emphasis in medical epidemiology. My only saving grace was the three years of experience I just racked up working with students of various ages...but that still wouldn't be enough.
Rewind three years: How did I even arrive into the sphere of working with students with such an odd degree? Well, one or two weeks after graduating from Cal State Long Beach, I had the amazing idea to hop onto a Greyhound bus for the east coast Phish Tour. At the end of the tour, I was headed back west and I met two people my age who worked for Nature's Classroom. I literally lined up a phone interview at the next stop-over and by the time I arrived back in California, I was packing up my stuff for Freedom, New Hampshire.
Sam and I arrived in Pinetop, Arizona where he had scored his first classroom teaching job in a fifth grade classroom. I went straight for the Apache Indian Reservation and landed a job teaching second grade. How GREAT!, but what the hell did I know about teaching in a classroom? Well, fortunately I figured it out somehow. After a year in second grade, I received a job working at a school just 1 mile from our house. I was a long term sub at a Junior High School where I enacted the role of a civics teacher. About the most exciting thing that happened during this brief stint was one day during first period.
Me: Good morning, open your books to page 82.
Student: Ohh crap, my book has writing in it.
Me: Can you just erase it?
Student: No, it is in permanent marker and you are going to want and see it
Me: ok, bring it up.
Meanwhile, the whole classroom sat in silence watching this whole scenario....
Me (looking at the book): well, I don't think anyone knows this for a fact.
Just what is it that the book had written in it with black permanent marker, you ask???
MS. FARRELL SUCKS BIG DICK
Anywho, this was my introduction to working with Junior High aged students in a classroom. The student was suspended, me and my friends sat around laughing about it, and life went on.
At the end of my 6 months, I went on to another long term sub position at McNary. McNary was another portion of the reservation that was located just on the outskirts of Pinetop. We typically referred to it as, McScary because it was super ghetto. When I walked in for my first day as the new art teacher, Farron McKinney yelled across the room, after my introduction by the principal: 'Hey Ms. Farrell, where da weed at'? For those of you who missed out on knowing me in my 20's, I had dreadlocks. I had dreadlocks for just under 10 years; my entire 20's. If you didn't know this, click here to check me out.
After racking up two years of experience teaching in a fifth grade classroom, we packed up our bags and headed to Quito, Ecuador. Our dream had come true, we had manifested it (whatever the hell that new-agey saying means). One small problem though. Sam had a job and I didn't. Fortunately, the 7th grade science teacher arrived to Quito, freaked out, and left. And, yours truly was now teaching 7th grade science just next door to her husband who taught 6th grade science. Two years later, we were in Anaco, Venezuela, one year later, Salt Lake City, Utah.
To date, we have actually set a record for 'staying put'. We arrived on Beth and Brandon's sofa at the end of January 2009. And here we are in 2012...still kickin' it in the same place. Although, I have to admit that we moved out of our apartment, last year, because we were feeling the itch and needed some change. And after just one year in our new place, we will start packing our belongings in July for another life adventure to Mexico.
So, you see. Being still, motionless, stagnant in regards to my profession and the places I reside is not the route I have chosen in this life. And at times I feel guilt. I feel that something must be wrong with me and begin wondering how I can change this unfavorable quality that others don't seem to possess...was it the orange and green plaid room I had as a child? I wonder if I am 'that person' who is not willing to grow up and become a professional. I struggle to explain that I see teaching internationally as an upward step in my own career. This career that is my don; my calling, in which I have no certificate or license but have performed for the past eight years inside a classroom. One that I think I am really good at! One that I think has the capability of changing the world!
At times, I even labor to explain that the international teaching circuit is a valid career that is taken seriously. Until, yesterday. I received another e-mail from the International Schools Review, but this time something stopped me from instantly deleting it. I read the e-mail and believe it or not, there are people in the world just like me! Who work at a job for an average of two years (and sometimes less)! Here is the article and the survey, that for now, has soothed the battle in my brain:
How Do International Educators See Their Career? ...Our Survey proved quite revealing and may well change the way international educators are perceived. Statistics show that the majority of international teachers (71%) view overseas teaching as a lifelong career. On the flip side, just 28% of survey participants said international teaching was merely a short-term adventure. Regarding life in the classroom, Survey responders reiterated that when employed overseas they feel free to practice their craft, unlike back home where bureaucracy often kills creativity and innovation in the classroom. Concerning relationships formed overseas, one teacher reported: "I seem to thrive better, both professionally and socially, overseas than at home." Another teacher said, "I never thought I could feel such a strong sense of belonging so far away from my home base." In our estimation, these teachers speak for many of us.
North Shore, Oahu 2003
Pinetop, Arizona 2004
Ecuador 2006
Venezuela 2008
