I can never remember a time in my life when I didn't want to be a teacher. I dreamed of the day that I would be given my own group of students and my very own classroom. Each time I observed a classroom while pursuing my undergraduate degree, I took pictures of things that I loved and wanted to do in my own classroom. I couldn't wait for the day that my name would be outside a big wooden door.
I graduated college in May and had a teaching job by the first week of June. Each day I paced the floors, waiting for my classroom to be ready for me to set up and decorate. I was driving myself crazy waiting for my own set of keys to the door that opened to my teaching career.
Finally, the day came. My principal told me that I would be in a portable. I was fine with it-- I was so happy that I had a job, I would've taught in the hallway or the cafeteria if I had to. She warned me that it needed a little work, but I was beaming --how bad could it be? I walked through the school, outside the back door, and saw it. Apparently, it was a hand-me-down portable from a high school in the district, and it looked like they had treated it a little rough. Holes spanned the outside of the building, I wondered, did someone get shot in here? Mud puddled at the steps. But still, I was optimistic. Slowly I opened the door..and immediately tears streamed down my face. Tiles were missing all over the floor. The walls had huge holes. Dirt splattered the floor and the walls. I tried to get myself together so that I could measure my windows and formulate a plan to turn this place around. This was not how I imagined my first classroom to be.
Fortunately, our wonderful janitors worked for a week fixing my new home. They put up wood paneling, replaced the tiles, and cleaned all the dirt. My dad and mom helped me unload all of the shelves and storage supplies I bought for my classroom. Dad bought a load of gravel and made a walkway of large stones so that the kids wouldn't track mud in my room. Grandmother made me curtains and helped me scrub my student's desks clean. It took several weeks, and a lot of help, but I finally had a room I was proud to call mine.
Being in a portable does have its perks. You can control your own thermostat. I always enjoyed propping my door open on pretty days for some fresh air. The portable comes with no storage, so you can set it up any way you like.
I paid my dues- my portable got struck by lightening and I didn't have Internet at all for over a month. I could never pick up wireless Internet, so Ethernet cords were run all the way around the sides of the room. After a hard rain, the roof leaked....on to my new desktop computer. It ruined it. A family of cats decided to take up residence in the insulation underneath my portable. One day, two of my students came in holding a new kitten. It peed on me...twice.
After two years in my portable, I got to move inside the building. I inherited a room, like my portable, that had immense potential. With some fresh wall paint, a new room arrangement, and pretty decor, it is a room I absolutely LOVE, and that my kids love too.
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