From the moment I was old enough to write, I was scribbling thoughts, notes, and ideas into notebooks, cloth-covered journals, and on scraps of paper. In high school, I knew, without question, what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be a writer - or more specifically, a journalist. I went to college and received a bachelor's degree in journalism. I took courses on various journalism-related topics, wrote for my college paper, and so forth; I wanted to get as much experience and knowledge under my belt as possible for when I first stepped foot in a newsroom.
Armed with those experiences, I embarked on a (short) three-year journey in the world of newspaper reporting. During that time, I discovered something very important regarding my professional life: I wanted to make a difference. I certainly wasn't making a difference - or at least not in the way I wished - by writing feature stories about a couple who operate a bed and breakfast out of their home, or about a town's annual fall festival, or the opening of a museum devoted entirely to luncheon meat.
It was around this time that I began venturing into the local schools as an education reporter. I discovered what it is that I should really be doing with my life. Forget my previous dreams of becoming a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, I now had a new dream: I wanted to become a teacher.
I was tired of hiding behind my reporter's notebook when interacting with the children. I wanted to be in front of the classroom, teaching them to read, helping them with spelling, and watching as their faces lit up when they 'got' a concept I was teaching.
And so began my quest to obtain my Master's degree and subsequent licensure in elementary education.
Article comments