Growing up I was gangly and awkward- knobby knees on much too skinny, stalk-like legs. Big nose. Even bigger ears. My older sister nick-naming me “Dumbo” even before I could properly walk. 

I have always known that teaching is something I wanted to do, have known it since I was little, as I looked forward to September and New England’s changing leaves. To this day I still enjoy picking out my folders and notebooks, my pens and highlighters. The smell of my books, somewhat musty, like the attic waiting to be explored on a rainy day- with the trunk filled with my mother’s old dresses from the dancing school her and my father used to run- overflowing with brightly colored fabrics of scratchy taffeta and chiffon.

I am aware that something is changing, subtle and slow, like the tide going out.  This is the feeling I have as I look forward to beginning my teacher candidacy at Burrillville High School. Things are changing, propelled by the pull of the moon and the rotating planet, I feel things are exactly as they should be- I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Although, I admit that I do not always feel this unnerved- especially after I have just woken up from the nap I’ve taken in my car and rush off… to class, to work, to home… just to do it all over again the following day- on too little sleep and with the help of a large steaming mug of dark roast coffee- one sugar and light on the cream.

I know this next semester at Rhode Island College is going to go by much too quickly- leading me on to student teaching and then on to life after graduation, to resumes and countless interviews.  So while I am anxious to get started, to do what I have wanted to do since I was little- I am going to try to slow it down- to enjoy the process while I’m in it- to learn from my peers, my cooperating teacher, from my professors Dr. Johnson and Dr. Cook, as well as from myself.  I know that I still have a ways to go and that I’m going to make mistakes – but what’s the road without a few of Rhode Island’s pot-holes along the way?