I think I have occasionally blogged about my "day job" -- the job I do from 8:00-4:30 Monday through Friday each week -- but not often. Mostly that's because there's not a lot of crossover between the work I do at work and the things I do that get written about here -- reading, designing, photographing, parenting, etc. Five years ago, I stepped out of the classroom for the last time as an English teacher and jumped into freelance writing and designing until I could find something else. That something else came along in February of 2007 in the form of a federally funded grant hosted at Murray State University that focused on college awareness and readiness for targeted Kentucky middle and high school students.
Since beginning that job, I have learned so much more about the idea of "college" and what it means to really be prepared. And while I loved teaching English -- being able to talk about reading and writing and the importance of both to high school students, an age group that I just LOVE -- the work that I do now resonates even more strongly with me. Maybe because my sister and I were the first members of our family to not just attend college but to actually graduate. (There were family members before us who enrolled and went for a semester or two, but never made it farther than that.) Even more so, I think it's because I wasn't ready for college, and simply graduating (in seven years, rather than the traditional four -- or five) was a tremendous achievement for me.
I was a good student in high school. Top 10 in my graduating class, 3.8 gpa, 30+ on the ACT. Never had to crack a book -- except in math. ;) I earned enough scholarships to pay for college and was accepted into the Honors program. I was on track to do great things.
And I flunked out. Lost every single dollar I'd won, was placed on academic probation, and came crawling back home with my tail tucked between my legs. I tried another school, earned a few credits, and then dropped out there too. It wasn't until I had Cassidy that I found a reason pressing enough to motivate me to finish school.
The truth was, I just wasn't ready. I lacked serious self-management skills. I'd never had to make adult decisions, prioritize, manage my time. I'd never failed at much of anything, so when I came up against situations I couldn't deal with, I didn't know how to persist. Add to that a family culture that valued education but had no experience with postsecondary education, which meant some support but not in the ways that I've since discovered really matter. My parents wanted me to do well, but they weren't sure how to actually help me do well. I eventually learned those skills, but it was a long, tough journey.
The past ten weeks have been a journey of a different kind -- one of waiting and hoping and stressing and questioning and doubting. Our grant cycle ended in August, and proposals for the new grant were due in July. We finally got word yesterday that the state grant was one of 19 (out of 47) funded; we have been awarded $26.9 million to serve 10,000 students from 30 of the neediest schools in Kentucky.
That doesn't mean the waiting game is over, though. With a new grant comes a new grant structure, new job positions, new service areas, new responsibilities. While my current position is guaranteed until April, I am anxious to see what new opportunities will be available with the new grant. I am hoping to be able to do a lot more with ACT and the EPAS assessment system and other tools, more with teacher professional development, more with designing curriculum for students and parents. Over the past five years, I've discovered just how much I love engaging with ideas and concepts, making connections and really digging in deep with what I'm working on. I'm still pretty crap at the follow-through implementation stuff; I tend to get bored and already have moved on to other ideas by the time those get implemented, but that's a weakness I'm working on.
Just like I'll continue to work on my patience, as I wait...and wait...and wait some more.
