If you were a principal, sitting at your desk on a stuffy July afternoon sifting through the thousands of resumes piled in your inbox, delivered by sweaty, smiling applicants, or slipped under your door at night you might stumble across the resume of one Adrienne Garrison. If you were feeling particularly generous, you might decide to read beyond the first four lines and somewhere near the bottom you might find five words she uses to describe herself. "Committed, passionate, engaging, empathetic..." Yeah yeah, you and a million others. "And undaunted".
When I typed that word into my resume I was considering my relentless pursuit of students who claimed not to like chapter books, undercover math whizzes so adept at hiding their skills they had fooled even themselves, and the ever-elusive members of the "school's for chumps" campaign. In other words, students who I refused to give up to the labels they had been given or had given themselves. Never would I have guessed that the term "undaunted" would describe another aspect of my teaching career: the job search.
Yet here it is August 3rd. And what do I have to show for my summer, degree, and tireless pursuit? Well, I'll show you.
No, unfortunately that's not me with my feet up, job security oozing out of my skin. Those are blisters from walking myself to all neighborhood schools to leave my resume with the principal. Unfortunately, only one school opened its door to me. A kind, wonderful janitor offered to put my resume in the principal's mailbox.
I made a pitstop at a gas station for band aids. "Mayonnaise?" he asks.
"Band-Aids," I reply.
"You have a beautiful accent. What accent is that?"
"Hoosier," I respond, cheekily.
"Oooh," he says, apparently impressed by the unfamiliarity of my alleged homeland.
No thank you I do not want a coke, I want a job.
I am appalled by how much this process resembles dating. For instance, just last week I was masterfully lead on by a school that "desperately needs someone with your energy and spunk". It was a whirlwind romance. I received her response to my cover letter at 6am, researched and outlined my talking points at seven, called her at nine, agreed to come in for an interview, arrived at 11:15 to meet P, AP, and PTA president, agreed to sing my "Good Morning" song at 11:30, listened to the qualities they felt made me the ideal candidate for approximately one hour, and went home. On Monday, in an impersonal email, I am notified that they went with another candidate.
Fine, but what was up with going above and beyond to express how jazzed you were about me? Quit playing games with my heart!
And the "You never called me back" school. Phone interview, group interview, writing sample, individual interview, DEMO LESSON! in front of P and AP, additional individual interview with AP. Two weeks later, I need to know. I email the AP asking if there is any additional information I can provide. No thank you, they went with another candidate.
What, you lost my number? Clearly it was just not meant to be.
Yet, in spite of it all I remain undaunted. There is a classroom out there for me. I just have to find it.
Meanwhile, I need some ice cream and new shoes.
