In October 2008, we welcomed the most precious, most beautiful thing to ever exist into this world. Our son, Ethan. He was born on October 08, 2008 at 11:41 pm. I had gone to the hospital at midnight the previous night. It was a long night and day before he finally decided it was okay to join us in this big, scary world. And scary it was.
I don't know if you remember October 2008. Things were falling apart. As I held my son in my arms, my husband commented on the economy (we were watching the news). Banks were falling. Wallstreet was crumbling. The housing bubble had burst in a huge way and housing prices were plummeting across the nation. My husband thought our economy might just go with it. The government didn't know what to do. We were in extreme debt as a nation. And we were involved in two wars.
The race for the presidency was heated. In the Republican corner, a man who was once a POW and deserved respect and devotion for his willingness to fight for our freedom. A man who could quite likely bring us through the two wars we're still engaged in. A man with a weak economical background and running mate that was making mistakes left and right, leaving non-party people with the idea that she was playing puppet. On the democratic side, a man who speaks so eloquently, it's hard not to be pulled in. A man who could inspire hope when it seemed there was none. A man who had little economy or war experience but could talk the talk without having to prove for the time being that he'd actually walk the walk. A black man. A man who made history just by becoming the Democratic candidate. A man destined to make history as the first Black President of the United States of America. My son was born in a year of great change, history, and economic strife.
Times were scary, and I had to quit listening to any of it. I had to have hope that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Why? Because what mother wants to bring her son into this kind of economic chaos? I was scared and even more scared when I was asked to call in to a company meeting. People were getting let go. Our company wasn't in the best place. What would I do if I lost my job? Would we lose everything? We're a two-income family. There's no way for us to make it on one salary. Not right now.
I didn't lose my job, but my salary was reduced by 4%. Lucky for me, I had received an annual pay increase and a promotion in my first year at Duck Creek, so the cut wasn't so hard for me. My husband's company made cuts, too. More than once. And with each "cut" that took place, we experienced tension, worrying, and uncertainty. But we've been lucky. We didn't get cut and now the pendulum seems to be pausing, stopping, and preparing to swing the other way.
In June 2009, I took my current position. It was a long process and one I'm thankful I made it through. Not only because I no longer have that 45-minute commute but also because I love education. In a working sense (really just an outside the family sense), education is quite likely the most important thing to me. I believe in it, and I believe in making sure people have the opportunity at higher education. I understand not everyone needs or wants to go to college, but a community college is so much more than just "college." But that's not the point. I had tried 4 years ago or more for a teaching position here, but I didn't get it. So when I got the opportunity again, I was ecstatic. Still am. I love my job, and I realize that's not something a lot of people these days can say. Do I want more? Of course I do, but that's my personality. Do I want it in education? Most definitely. I come from little means, and education saved me from a life of hardship.
This position also gave something back to me that I missed. I now had the opportunity to teach again. And I love being in the classroom. I love teaching. I love helping people learn. I sometimes think that I had I known how much I would enjoy teaching, I would've gone after that instead of English and Technical Writing. Of course, I love writing, too, and I do get to teach, so I am happy.
Monetarily, picking up a few classes brings in more money. And this is where we're at. I love to teach, but right now, I feel like I'm killing myself. I'm stressed and pulled as thin as I can go. However, I know it won't be like this forever. I can see that shimmering, beautiful light back there at the end of this dismal tunnel that we created for ourselves. My teaching money goes directly toward eliminating our debt. Granted, we won't be eliminating our student loan debt for quite a few years to come, but that one credit card that hangs over our head is dwindling, and I can be proud of that. And I can see that light that tells me that soon I will be able to teach just one class, and I'll be able to do it because I want to. This "have to" thing is bringing me down.
As for the other things I manage to pick up, such as being on a writing committee, well, I am naturally ambitious. And I rarely close the door to things I think might be helpful to me in the future. I don't think of things in terms of "right now." I try to see the big picture and how I can fit into that and pursue the avenues I wish to pursue. I haven't exactly kept my childhood or lack thereof a secret. It is that childhood and those experiences that shaped this need and drive for success. And knowing that, I know that we will and are swimming back up to the surface and soon, I will be able to breathe again.
P.S. Sorry for such a long post, but this blog is for me, too!
WW- The Apple of My Eye
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