My Lazarus Moment.

All throughout college, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I knew I wanted to form connections with my students. I knew I wanted to build relationships with my colleagues. I knew I wanted to make a difference in the next generation. I knew what I wanted. I just had to take the steps to get there. My practicum and student teaching experiences were great. Everything truly was going well – besides having a professor who was out to get me, but that’s another story that I have previously, briefly shared. Then the day finally came that I walked into my first classroom as Ms. Davison. I knew exactly what I wanted it to look like, feel like, be like. It was going to be perfect. Until it wasn’t. My dreams were quickly shattered and I was beaten to the core.

Side note: I’d like to shoutout the five people who actually befriended me during my time there. They were great, and we truly needed each other. We helped each other, and I wouldn’t have made it without them.

Now back to this post. My team was nothing like I had imagined, seen on tv, or witnessed during my college days. They were vindictive and mean. If I did something wrong or something not of their “norm” they would tattle on me to the assistant principal. If I wore something that made me look too young, they would tell me to put on more makeup or dress like the much older teachers at the school. No matter what I did I always seemed to do something wrong. No one cared about my opinion or cared what I had to say. I did not feel like I was a part of any team. My students were HARD on top of that, and I felt like I was lost. Year after year, my students never got easier. My class was always THE VERY LAST to enroll – one year even all on the first day of school. Everyone talked about how we needed to work together and support each other, but when I asked for help I was told I am not supposed to be spoon fed or coddled. I felt like I was always getting into “trouble.” I spent the majority of my days and nights crying and wishing I wasn’t a teacher anymore. I wanted to quit year after year. This is what I worked so hard for though in college, so I shouldn’t quit, right? So I kept fighting. I kept thinking things would change. I kept believing they would change. They never seemed to though.

After four years, my dreams, hopes, and everything I thought I knew about teaching had died. My vision had died, and I did not see much hope. I did not want to teach anymore. After year one, my husband asked me to give it five years. Just five years, and if after that time it was not my dream anymore I could let it go and move on.

This year makes that fifth year.

That final year.

But something happened. My heart is slowly changing. Sure I still want to be an elementary school counselor one day, but now I think I might be able to make it a few more years inside the classroom.

So what happened? Did everything thing miraculously get better? Did the people have a change of heart and decide to be kind? Did I just develop thick skin? Well, yes to that last part, but I MOVED. I moved states. I moved schools. All to run away and get away from those meanies. Just kidding!!! My husband got a new job (in a new state) so that’s why we moved.

And what I discovered is that the dream I always wanted is real. It’s for real real. Its really really REAL! I got a new job in a fantastic district at a basically brand new school teaching fourth grade. So yes, everything is different. It’s a new grade. In a new school. In a new state. So much newness, but the best part is that I am actually treated with kindness and respect.

Before school even stared, I was setting up my classroom and one of my new fellow fourth grade teachers came to check out my room and ask about all the things I had. I pointed out a few special things I do in my classroom and you know what she told me? She told me I have such great ideas!! She told me that!! She actually said that!! I had never been told that by a coworker (that wasn’t one of the previously five mentioned). I texted my husband and cried.

I had found my Lazarus moment.

That moment when all that was dead and gone came back to life.

That moment of sunshine after being stuck inside all day.

That first sip of coffee after taking a caffeine fast.

I was alive again. My dream was alive.

I told that colleague a few days later how much that meant to me that she said that I had great ideas because I was bullied at my old school. It was something so small, yet so meaningful. I started crying. She started crying. Another coworker started crying. We basically all started crying because we found a community. We found a team.

I finished setting up my classroom, and I can proudly say that it truly is my dream room. It’s beautiful. It’s homey. It’s welcoming. It’s woodsy. It’s everything I had envisioned long ago when I first started college. I may have spent WAYYY too much money (and been amazingly blessed by so many friends and family members), but it finally came to pass. I even found a school that cares more about its students’ hearts and emotional wellness over academics.

My dream is alive again.

My passion is stronger than ever.

My heart is healing.

I have only been at this school for three weeks now, but in those three weeks I have felt more welcome than I have ever felt at any new place. I unfortunately got COVID last week and my team helped me with my lesson plans, my duties, and my students. In this short time, I have discovered that this is the community I always wanted. When I returned from being sick and had a meltdown in front of them because I just felt so overwhelmed (I mean they may be amazing, but I am still new at fourth grade so it’s alot to manage), they sat me down, let me cry, and helped me create a lesson plan for Monday. No one made me feel less than.

They lifted me up.

They supported me.

They cried with me.

They told me they understood.

I know everyday will be a learning experience. I will have challenges. I will still have days that I cry or am stressed out, but this time around I have people who will support me. I have a newfound vision. I have a new wholeness in me, and I actually feel like I can do this.

I can be a teacher who loves her job.

I AM a teacher who loves her job. Finally.