Firsts, or On new beginnings, new associations, and being thrown to the fishes.

It's 7:30 a.m. I'm on my second cup of coffee, having been awake since 0430, and I'm wide awake and a more than a little nervous about my upcoming day when, after having secured an undergraduate and graduate degree and after having been employed as a college instructor for the last six years, I will, in less than four hours, be a non-traditional college student. There are so many things wrong with that previous paragraph, the least of which is, I'm sure, the grammar. It's early and I'm cranky. So be it.

Allow me to backtrack for a moment. A few months ago, the department where I had worked since 2001 decided it no longer wanted to employ those of us who "only have M.A. degrees" and set about unemploying a few of us. I was one of the few. Instead of drowning my sorrows in rum and coke for the rest of the semester, I decided to only drown my liver for a week, then set about deciding what path I wanted to follow. Since I had graduated with nine hours more than I needed and had taken education courses while I was teaching, and had decided while teaching that I really enjoyed working with students, my heart told me that the next logical step would be to go ahead and finish my teaching certification.

My brain has had serious reservations about all of this, by the way, but I'll return to that in a moment.

My Heart knows that I've really, really enjoyed working with the, shall I say, less advantaged students, those also known as disabled, learning impaired, behaviorally/emotionally handicapped, and sometimes, in the dark of night when I'm alone and can say it aloud, the "How in the holy hell did this kid ever get accepted into college?" I've loved every moment of it, I write in retrospect, and I know I've learned a lot from these students, so I've decided to become certified to teach Special Education Students.

Unlike my heart, which a former boyfriend once called ice-cold for some reason he never explained, my brain has very serious reservations about all of this. Among the reasons include a lack of insurance, a lack of income, and a lack of familial support.

The most important reservation? I'm attending the very same school that just unemployed me after six years of teaching. Not only am I going to place myself into a new situation in a new discipline in a new department, but I'm going to do it while on the same land as the department I formerly worked for. Fortunately, the brain has been overruled on almost all points, except the last one. In that case, my brain and heart both agree that the best course of action is to avoid seeing anyone from that department at all costs. There are trees located on campus and I have no problem hiding behind them should I see someone I recognize walking along the sidewalk. To say our parting was acrimonious would be an understatement. *1

One last parting word: I've worked with many of the same students who will, in less than three hours now, be my peers. Now, as an education major in this state, students must take and pass the Praxis I text (I don't because of my degrees). A lot of the students who are my new peers have trouble passing this test, with its three sections: math (basic algebra), reading/grammar (basic comprehension/subject and verb agreement) and writing (basic thesis and two supporting paragraphs, with an introduction and conclusion and all the pretty grammar and spelling one would expect of a teacher). This section of the state is one of the poorest, worst educated areas. The county's claim to fame a few years ago was being ranked number one in number of syphylls cases. I expect to be highly amused.

So today is the day. This is the introduction and while I'm not yet a certified teacher, I will be writing about my fellow peers as well as my own journey on this road to certification. Expect some laughter, some tears, and some comments when I do my school observations.This should be an interesting ride.

1. I'll explain this at a further date.