Bad Girl House

As the summer approached, John’s father still didn’t have any leads on long term work. John was looking for work using online job boards, but couldn’t find a job that he felt was worthy of his skill set as a carpenter. He wasn’t finding anything that was going to pay him what he believed he was worth. His overpowering ego wasn’t willing to take a job that would simply provide a salary that would support his family. There was a strong possibly that his recent arrest left a lasting mark on his record that kept him from getting hired anywhere that required a background check. I had to stay home to watch Jessica instead of attending his upcoming court dates, so I didn’t know exactly what he had been charged with. Whether it was John’s unsuccessful search or his growing police record, he eventually stopped looking for a job. Instead, he decided that the most logical and promising option was to find me a teaching position for the coming fall.

John began making a lot of Mr. Mom comments since he would be the one watching Jessica during the day if I found a job. In reality, I assume that it bothered him that I was going to be the sole bread winner. He was going to have a woman supporting him and his daughter, while he took care of things at home. He usually wanted nothing to do with changing diapers, and had no problem letting me know that he was not looking forward to that. He thought everything else would present no problem at all. If I could do it, he could do it even better. I had been home with Jessica since she was born, so it was difficult to weigh the importance of being her mother with beginning my dream career. I didn’t like thinking about leaving her with anyone, even if if was her father.

We soon realized that there weren’t any openings for music teachers in Ohio. Everyday John ran searches for new openings. I kept hoping that something local would present itself, but they all turned out to be in other states. We reluctantly told all of the grandparents that we might have to move out of Ohio within the next few months. They were not shy about how upset they were at the thought of us moving away before Jessica had her first birthday. It wasn’t that they weren’t supportive of me looking for a job, but they seemed more upset about the thought of rarely seeing their newest grandchild.

An expanded search quickly narrowed itself. There were openings for music teachers all across the country, but many of them were for high school band directors. That was not out on the edge of my comfort zone. Voice majors were only required to take a one semester course focusing on teaching students to play band instruments. We learned the very basic techniques for playing each instrument, and even attempted to play them. I was given a trumpet for the semester, which I couldn’t manage to get one acceptable sound out of. If I couldn’t do it, how could I possibly teach someone else to play it successfully? Taking a band opening would happen as a last resort. Some openings were only part time positions as school districts were downsizing their music programs. That wouldn’t have offered enough compensation to warrant uprooting my family. I would soon be competing for jobs with people who were fresh out of college. I needed to start applying for anything that looked promising, and anything that I felt I was capable of right away. I didn’t want any of them to be filled before I had a chance to be considered.

After eliminating jobs that I felt weren’t right for me, I was left with a handful of options. In Missouri there were openings in two extremely small school districts. One of them was so small that there was only one school building that held all grade levels. The other had one building for elementary students and one for high school students. Both communities were mostly made up of the pig farmers and their families that lived in the area. They were both looking to hire one music teacher for their entire student body. My responsibilities would have been teaching general music to the elementary students, as well as choir and band for the rest of the students. The other option was in Marion, Virginia. The schools in this district were spread throughout Smythe County. It was the western most county in the state, resting in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. There I would be teaching general music between three different buildings throughout the school year. It was a rural area, but it was continuing to grow. It was a large tourist attraction in Appalachia because of its beautiful national parks.

It was up to me to weigh the options. Missouri was a considerably farther move than Virginia. It was an area that was most likely not going to grow much. I was told by someone from the district in Missouri that most large grocery and clothing stores required a long drive. Professionally I was concerned about teaching band to students of any age. I knew that I would be able to handle it, but I didn’t have as much knowledge about band as I did general and vocal music. I didn’t want to do my students a disservice, even if it was such a tiny school district. They still deserved to have a director that knew what she was doing. I didn’t think that I could learn enough about all of the band instruments in time to do the job justice. Being a teacher and a mother was going to unbelievably busy to begin with, so I felt that taking on choir and band would spread me quite thin. All of those things made the position in Virginia look like the much better choice. General music was my specialty. I was much more comfortable picturing myself singing and playing the piano than standing in front of a band. During college I had collected many binders full of songs and activities that I could use with students of all ages. Throughout the year I would teach first through sixth grade, so all of the materials I already had would be invaluable. I also had to think about which area would allow John to find work when the time came. We didn’t think that there would be anything for him in pig farming country, so that also tipped the scale towards Virginia. That was the job that I decided to apply for. As soon as I sent in my application, I called the phone number that was listed with the opening. To my surprise, the number connected me to the school district’s Superintendent, Mr. Allen. He was very glad to hear from me. I was his first applicant and the current teacher was planning on retiring at the end of the school year. He said that he was starting to worry about the job not being filled, because people might not want to move to such a small area. He asked me if I was interested enough in the position to come visit the the town and the schools that I would be assigned to. Their school year wasn’t quite over yet, so I’d also get to meet the teacher that I might be replacing. I assured him that I was very interested in both the position and his town. The district was willing to put us up in a hotel so we could explore for a few days. Nana and Papa were happy to watch Jessica for us while we were away.

It wasn’t long before the scenery of the drive made me even more excited about the position. I had seen the same view on the way to the Biltmore Estate, but this time it was much more thrilling. My feelings of anticipation seemed to make everything more beautiful. Being late Spring, wild flowers lined the sides of the road. Orange, purple, and yellow blooms led our way through southern Ohio, West Virginia, and Kentucky. The further south we went, the taller the hills and mountains became. We had been looking at pictures on the computer, but that did not do them justice. Their dark green peaks grew up out of the horizon as we moved closer to them. We drove through the tunnels of immovable mountains, and around sharp curves so close to large rocks, that I felt like I could reach out and touch them. I was impressed by the visible layers of stone that had been naturally pushed for so many years that they were standing vertically. The highway seemed like a river valley cutting it’s way through the mountains. When we reached the exit for the little town of Marion, we still couldn’t see it beyond the foothills. We rolled to the stop sign at the end of the ramp, and saw our first glimpse of its dated plazas and tiny houses. Running right through the center of town was a very active railroad track. A train arrived to greet us with its blaring horn as soon as we turned onto the town’s main road. The gate’s red, flashing lights came down, and I could here the train rumbling towards us. I grew up vacationing in Vermillion, Ohio where a train could always be heard passing through. I felt even more at home hearing the sound of its whistle as it roared through the intersection. Once the train let us pass, I could take in the town’s atmosphere. The buildings were all on different levels because of the hilly terrain. The main street remained somewhat straight, but the rest of them needed to follow the lay of the land. We turned up one of those winding roads to make our way to the Board of Education building where we were going to meet with Mr. Allen. After introductions, we went to his office to discuss my application and any questions that we had for each other. He thought that I should go ahead and apply for a Virginia teaching certificate as soon as I got home, so I would have it before the first day of school. Mr. Allen offered to give us a tour of the town and drive us to the three different schools that I would be working in. The retiring teacher was at Marion Elementary School where I’d be teaching first and second grade. I was able to go to her room while she had a free period. She was thrilled that I was there, and that we had the opportunity to meet each other. The room was laid out perfectly for teaching music. It was a good sized room with a piano that would be staying. I could already see my students moving around the room while I played songs for them. She wanted to hear all of the new ideas and techniques I had just learned in college. She loved that I wanted to keep the kids moving and engaged in my classroom. I was glad that she felt comfortable with me being the next person to teach in her room. She expressed her concern about keeping the music program strong in their school district, just as Mr. Allen had.

Chillhowie Elementary School was about fifteen minutes away from what could be called downtown Marion. It held elementary students up to fifth grade. Pulling into the parking lot, I had to get out of the car and admire the view. It was a newer building that sat on the top of a hill, so there were foothills covered in pine trees as far as the eye could see. The principal told me that the school was set up as one long hall of rooms because the builders needed to accommodate the land. When we entered through the front door that was in the center of the school, I could barely see each end. We walked the length of the hall and talked about the upcoming school year, as she walked me down to the music room. I was happy with this room as well. It was also big enough for students to move around creatively, had a piano, and boxes of instruments that belonged to the school.

That very day, John and I made the decision to accept the job. Everything I’d seen and everyone I’d talked to made me feel good about the choice. Since it was really the only job opening the country that I was qualified for, it was more more like a gift than a choice. I was full of nervous energy, as well as a boost of confidence. Somehow I’d found an opportunity to use all of the knowledge I had learned that felt like it was meant for me.

While being driven around by Mr. Allen, he told us that his wife was a realtor. She would be able to help us find a place to live if we needed her to. That evening we met with her. She was an outspoken woman in every way. She sailed out of her house wearing a flowing, bright flowered dress. She looked like she had just left the salon to have her pixie cut trimmed. There was not a single white hair our of place. The final touch was the colorful beaded chain that held her glasses as they swung back and forth with the gate of her walk. Since she knew we needed to find housing in a hurry, she had no problem letting us know what she thought about our options. She had to be honest and tell us that there weren’t going to be many rentals. Mr. Allen must have told her that we were going to be in town from Ohio, because she already had a few places to show us. She figured that we would want to be as close to the main part of town as possible, which we did. There turned out to be a raised ranch that was being rented out as a duplex, and the top floor was empty. It was located in the middle of my assigned schools, so it was fairly close to civilization. Luckily this option seemed to present itself as coincidentally as the job had. It was there when I needed it. There was no where in town that didn’t have an incredible mountain view. The sight from the duplex was as spectacular as any I’d seen so far. We had Mrs. Allen call the landlord right away, who was going to get there as soon as she could. While we waited, we realized that the train track ran directly behind the house in the valley. It shook the ground, and filled the air with the click clack of its wheels. It seemed like a bonus at the time. John mentioned that Jessica would probably get a kick out of it. When the train’s whistle blew, it’s sudden loudness made me jump. The landlord arrived with the key, so we could see the layout of the rental. It was a simple two bedroom one and a half bath apartment, with a kitchen and a living room. The deck off of the living room was its best feature. I was going to sit back there a lot. The house also sat near the entrance of a small neighborhood, so is wasn’t completely isolated. We exchanged information with the landlord, so we could take care of everything over the phone and by mail when we got back to Ohio. The next morning we were on our way back home.

In the span of twenty-four hours that went by like a whirl wind, I had accepted a job and found an apartment in one of the most beautiful places I had ever been to. Before I knew it our things were boxed up and we were ready to go. In order to make the move in one trip, John and I were taking Jessica in our SUV, while Nana and Papa were going to follow us in a moving truck. They stayed for a few days to help us get settled in, and to unpack things that we might need right away. We were then left alone, almost 400 miles from home.