WHY I TEACH-Part 32: Teaching the Next Generation

“I’m sorry, but we are unable to offer you a position at this time.”

“I’m sorry but you are just not a fit for our school.”

“I’m sorry but we’ve gone with a more experienced candidate.”

“I’m sorry but we’ve gone with someone with more education.” Now that one I found hard to believe as I had four degrees, the highest an ED.S. or Educational Specialist. The only degree higher was a PhD.

I tried all the schools in my county, but apparently, when asked about whether or not I was a good hire, Mr. Myers told them he’d advise against hiring me. I know this because a principal who really liked me, called me up to tell me. I only had to make it to the end of June. Mr. Myers’ retirement began at the end of June and the new principal would be the point of contact for references.

I applied to schools all over the state. I applied to be the manager of McDonald's. I looked into multi-level marketing schemes, entry-level secretarial jobs, and even teaching at my old technical college.

I submitted my application as adjunct faculty at 9:01 a.m. Monday morning. I received a call at 9:22 a.m. asking if I could start on Wednesday.

I headed to the main campus, which was 30 minutes from my house. Lightning flashed and a torrential downpour landed squarely on my windshield. I slowed the car to barely moving and hit the hazard lights. For five minutes, the rain made visibility zero. I hit a bump in the road, noticed a Now Entering Carroll County sign, and poof, the sun hit the hood of my car. I looked back and saw the almost sideways rain pounding the road, a sheet of unyielding horror. As I turned my head, I reached for my sunglasses and hit the accelerator.

I took it as a sign. I left the bad behind and moved on to sunnier days.

My first classroom, I now had two, one for lectures and one for demonstrations, was freaking amazing: brand new computers, a retractable movie-sized screen, four whiteboards, a podium, microphone with wall-to-wall speakers. I took a deep breath and smiled; I could get used to this.

My workload consisted of four entry-level computer classes: two met Monday and Wednesday mornings, and the other two on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I had afternoons, evenings, and Friday through Sunday off. In the mornings, I could get the kids on the bus and be home in the afternoons to get them off the bus. I could eat lunch with them on Fridays.

Best of all, I had no paperwork, no modified teaching, no faculty meetings, no lesson plans, no observations, and no Mr. Myers.

Wednesday morning, my classroom rules presentation displayed beautifully on the retractable screen. I didn’t know how many of the rules would translate to my new students, but I thought, what the heck, students are students. I stood at the door, greeted my students, and handed them a copy of my syllabus. It didn’t take long for me to realize I was the youngest person in the classroom.

“Welcome,” I said as I stared into the sea of 40-60-year-olds. I looked up at my presentation. “I only have one rule, come to class as attendance is 10% of your grade.” They nodded.

I closed the presentation and pulled up a copy of the syllabus. They followed along, took notes, and asked questions. It dawned on me that I’d actually be teaching. Like really teaching, not babysitting, breaking up fights, or constantly trying to keep kids on track. I didn’t think any of these students would staple their shirts or try to sharpen their pinkies.

“Let’s turn to chapter 1, page 4,” I said. A hand shot up. “It’s ok if you don’t have your book, you can follow along with what I’m doing.”

“No, that’s not it. How do you turn on this thingy?” the man said as he tapped the side of his monitor.

“There’s a button on the bottom right.”

“Nope, still nothing.”

“Look at the tower; are the lights on?”

He looked harder at his monitor.

“No, the tower is the computer under the desk; are the lights on?”

He moved his chair back and bent under the desk.

“I don’t see any lights.”

“Push the round button on the tower, computer.”

“Are you sure? I won’t break it or anything, will I?”

“If there aren’t any lights, the computer isn’t on.”

“Oop, it’s green. That did it.” He sat up, a huge smile on his face.

“Do you have a computer at home?”

He held up his cell phone. “Just this thing.”

“How many of you have computers at home?”

About half raised their hands.

It occurred to me that the four classes I was teaching were all Introduction to Computers. Like literally introducing adult students to computers. The next 12 weeks were going to be interesting.