In six days I will have completed something that roughly 10 months ago I was sure was impossible. I will be completing my school year in Arizona. This year has been one of the most difficult in my entire life. I tried something new, but it hasn’t worked out how I hoped or dreamed; nonetheless, I would never change my decision to try something new.
My school year started with a terrible phone call. The first Friday of the school year, I was on the phone with my mom before the school day started. She sounded funny, almost drunk. She was incoherent and honestly scary. She was having a stroke. I was on the phone with my mom while she was having a stroke, but I was 1800 miles away and could do absolutely nothing. I wish I could accurately describe the feelings I had, but that whole day is a blur. I had to tell my mom to hang up and call 911 and make her repeat back to me what she was going to do. Then I desperately called my dad. I don’t actually remember doing this at school. When I remember it, I’m at home, but I was at school when I called him. I didn’t even go home until hours later (I took sanctuary at Joli’s house for a few hours first). My mom survived the mini-stroke with very minor memory-related side-effects, but after only being in Arizona for two weeks, I was ready to leave and never return.
By the end of winter break, I was sure that I was not going to return to Arizona for the following school year. I missed having family nearby. I missed all my friends in Michigan. And honestly, I was having a difficult time feeling like a part of anything in AZ, mostly because I didn’t want to grow attached and decide to stay. Coming back to AZ after break was incredibly difficult for me, and the fact that I was coming back to prepare my students for a test that would decide if they could graduate or not didn’t lower my stress level any.
By time spring break rolled around, I was ready for some serious fun. Luckily, that’s exactly what Kara, Danielle, and Brandon planned. We went shopping (way too much), met The Band Perry, and acted like we didn’t have a care in the world. Sadly the world slapped me in the face the minute I got off the plane in Phoenix. I had a voice mail from my dad asking me to call him as soon as I was home and settled. For the record, I hate when people call and make it sound serious but don’t tell me why. I was sure something terrible had happened; my dad never just calls me to chat- it’s not what we do. I got home, went straight to my room, and called home. My dad had been diagnosed with cancer, not a serious form, but he was going in for surgery in a few weeks to have the tumor removed and find out if it had spread. It was St. Patrick’s Day, but it wasn’t lucky for me. I cried for a while and then sat on the couch while Trish and Kristin watched a movie, but I couldn’t even tell you what it was. I flew home for my dad’s surgery and was relieved to hear that the cancer had not spread and the doctor’s were confident that things looked good. My dad made jokes about getting to wear one of the fancy purple shirts at Relay for Life and I rolled my eyes. The day after Easter I was back on a plane to Arizona knowing that it would be one of the last times I headed that way set for “home”.
Up to this point, I know it sounds like I’m blaming my parents’ illnesses; it’s really not that. Instead it’s more the feeling I get that I’m not where I should be. I’m never as comfortable in Arizona as I am in Michigan, and I just miss that feeling of being myself, and part of being myself is supporting my family through whatever they are dealing with.
One thing that I want to make clear is that I am not leaving because I don’t like my job. Although my job has been a cause of stress throughout my year, it is the only life I have in Arizona. Without my job, I wouldn’t have a social life, since everyone I spend time with works with me. I wouldn’t call MHS a dream job, but it’s come to be a piece of me, and as the end draws near, I’m having difficulty realizing that I won’t be participating in any of the plans for next year.
When I first arrived at the public school after teaching in a college-prep parochial school, I wasn’t prepared for the adjustment necessary. Arizona and Michigan aren’t exactly on the same page when it comes to curriculum, and instead of teaching students on their way to MSU, U of M, and occasionally Notre Dame (along with many others) I found myself teaching a remedial class for students who were having difficulty passing a state test required for graduation. Although it took me several months to find my stride, I came to love teaching the remedial class, and my goal is to finish my masters so I can continue to work toward helping struggling students.
The most difficult thing to leave will be my group of coworkers/friends. I hate that it took me so long to feel comfortable, like I was part of the group, just because I didn’t want to be attached to Arizona. I am attached though, and I will be deeply hurt if I lose these friendships that have come to be the only thing I really have going for me down here besides my students. I can’t imagine what my day will be like without walk across the 100+ degree courtyard to have lunch in our very outdated English lounge. It’s weird how something that was so foreign 10 months ago is now routine.
I don’t regret moving to Arizona. It was something that I needed to do; a risk I needed to take. Although I’m headed back toward the Great Lakes, I don’t know that I plan on staying that long. I’m not against moving again. I realized this year that I am much stronger than I thought I was, and that the one mistake that I seem to make over and over again is under-estimating myself. I moved across country, knowing only 2 adults where I was moving, to a city and state I had never before visited. I took a job, site unseen, and survived it. I am stronger than I give myself credit for. Which is good, because my next step may end up being moving back in with my parents, and that is going to take strength and patience.
Finding Direction 