About a week and a half ago, I noticed a shift. It wasn’t huge, nor would I say it was epiphany-like. I did notice it though. While I was hesitant to attach a word or label to it, the best that I could come up with, when trying to explain the shift, was that I felt different. It wasn’t so much a feeling of balance, nor a feeling of complete recovery, but there was something that had changed. Maybe I turned my corner. Maybe I began to turn my corner. I think that’s the closest I can come to conveying what it is I felt.
I noticed the shift on a Tuesday, and on Wednesday remarked to myself that if this shift continued on for the next few weeks, it might be a good time to start getting back out into life. Maybe look for work.
On Thursday of the same week, I decided I would begin to make my way through the TV show Homeland. I started watching this show years ago, but could never make it past the end of season 2. On Thursday night, I was well into season 1. Carrie Matheson had suffered her own break of sorts, gone through electric shock therapy and emerged on the other side, having been fired from the CIA, and working as an English teacher at what looked like an adult education program. As I sat watching her correct the grammar of some of her students, I thought to myself that if a job like that-teaching English to immigrants and/or adults- were to fall in my lap at that present moment, I’d likely take it and be pretty happy about it.
While I haven’t been actively looking for work, since leaving my last position in late June, work has never been far from my mind. As the weeks have passed, I have thought about and contemplated what sort of work I might look for, when I felt ready to go back. I knew I was due for a career change, but besides serving coffee, or sorting papers, I had nothing really specific that had crossed my mind as a potential for what direction I might take, when job hunting would eventually become a reality.
Teaching has always been in the back of my mind. I adored the 6 years I worked at Sakatcheway Anishinabe School in Grassy Narrows. Since leaving that position in June of 2011, I’ve strayed from teaching, but it has always truthfully been my first love.
As a result of the sheer number of teachers that are being produced from teachers colleges these days, I think I had more or less given up on the prospect of teaching, as jobs are now incredibly hard to come by, despite the assurances of our high school guidance counsellors who jubilantly told us years ago that teaching was THE field to get into, as the demand would be so great.
On the Friday morning, I received a voicemail from an Education Counsellor at the vocational college here in Gatineau. He informed me that, provided I was still interested, there was an intermediate English class that would be starting soon. After the exchange of a few emails, we set a date for an informal interview, which I attended the following Tuesday. The interview was a successful one, and I was offered a part-time contract teaching English at the college.
To say I was over the moon would be an understatement. Having just mused to myself the Thursday evening before, how wonderful a teaching job would be, I was stunned when The Universe offered up exactly what I had asked for.
Life can be funny that way.