Summers for me generally include vacations on the hot sand, endless excursions to new restaurants, museums, and plays, and time spent ruminating about how I'm going to tackle the next year of my life. This summer has been a stark difference to those before it, not only in the progression of activities, but in the way my much-needed 3-month break began. Let's reflect now, shall we …

When the second semester of the 2019-2020 school year began, I knew it would be an arduous journey; however, I did have a lot to look forward to in the next few months that would most certainly get me through the day-to-day. I would be assisting the Drama club with their Spring production of Beauty and the Beast, I was wrapping up the most challenging year of my life both personally and professionally, and I had so many trips planned for the summer. Sanibel Island in July and Japan at the crux of August when hopefully I'd be in full planning mode for my next professional adventure were the glue keeping me patched together, along with Mr. Know-it-All, of course.

And then, when I was coming to terms with the fact that the second semester always slows to an agonizing crawl, the world shut down … for what is now going on month 5. Therefore, all of the aforementioned glue dried up, and all I had was … my neurotic dogs, peculiar cats, and hours upon hours at my dining room table figuring out life. At the beginning, it was more tolerable because the language used by leaders in our country was "slow the spread, flatten the curve," and then I guess all would return to normal, right? Wrong. Oh, I wish I knew how wrong that sentiment would be because once again teachers are flipping the switch left and right as teaching protocol changes like the tide daily. But, I'll get to that later.

As the progression of the 4th quarter became evidently apparent that remote learning was how all students and faculty would go out, I switched my teaching style to fun project-based learning to keep my kids engaged. Then, as May dwindled in hours left, I filmed a send-off video for my students - my kids - not only because they would each advance to the next grade, but because I would not be returning come fall. Seeing as this was one of the hardest decisions I have had to make, it simultaneously broke my heart and made it swell with the outreach from my students as to my departure. As an educator, I never actively seek out affirmation from students that I'm doing okay for me and by them, but I'd be lying if I said that those emails, messages, cards in the mail, and Zoom sessions didn't affirm my vocation for me.

I left a small parochial school is south-eastern Ohio knowing that accepting that position the summer prior was meant for me. I needed to be surrounded by students who cared and loved with their entire hearts, a faculty welcoming and inviting, and the hardest curriculum I've planned from scratch. I needed to do that, to experience a real first year as an educator, to finally come home. What I didn't realize was that coming home happened sooner rather than later.

About a month into quarantining - April to be exact - I heavily began searching for a job. During this time, my family helped me move everything out of my quaint apartment, I scheduled fingerprinting and background checks, and I filled out numerous applications, all in the hopes that by some miracle I could land a job.

Searching for employment can be difficult in any social and economic environment, but I was looking during a global pandemic. I knew the odds were stacked against me, and yet I was calmed by 2 factors: 1) I had a year of teaching under my belt, and 2) That same year of teaching occurred at the outset of said global pandemic.

I waited for months, until finally in June I received word from another private institution about a phone screen. Mind you, I had never participated in a phone screen before. This was only my second professional interview since leaving undergrad. After the line cut out, I knew in my heart it didn't necessarily go in my favor. I convinced myself that this large institution with stricter teaching measures was meant for me. The eventual rejection crushed me; once again, I'd be lying if I said it didn't.

But then, I received a call about an in-person interview. The world works in mysterious ways because I can recall a conversation with my dad about how sending a paper application is a more personal approach in that first step in the job process. The kicker is that this was the only school that required a paper application opposed to the now standard common application online.

I was psyched because this was a school in the general area Mr. Know-it-All and I will eventually settle, and something about the mission and vision felt right. In college, I had to come up with my own belief, mission, and vision statements, and it's a true treasure when they align so perfectly with a sought after institution.

At the height of my excitement, I crafted a 15-minute lesson about writing, which was the parameter for the interview. I toyed around with a few ideas, texted former coworkers, and eventually I landed on something creative as an introductory lesson for Lord of the Flies. I saw it on a curriculum list for the school, and I taught it this past year; it felt like the right choice. I was going to teach a group of adults how to do a Think. Draw. Share. Talk about a risky move.

When I entered the interview, I could tell they had been at it for a while, and after teaching my lesson and answering a few questions, I just felt like it didn't go well. Have you ever cried after an interview … the whole way home? Well, I did. And guess what, my tears were all for naught because I received a call the following morning about a second interview. That sigh of relief cured all my anxieties and apprehensions because after interview number 2, I was offered a position.

The second interview was to be an introductory lesson for A Raisin in the Sun, and I mapped out a 30-minute lesson that included baggies of raisins and grapes, "Harlem" by Langston Hughes, background on the Harlem Renaissance, a Langston Hughes bio summary, and a Lorraine Hansberry bio summary. I was so proud of this lesson because it reminded me of how creative planning can be and how much I miss the classroom. It's my stage, my niche, and I cannot wait to step back into the spotlight, even with the restrictions for this year.

So, yes, my avid readers, I will be teaching English and Film at Halifax High School this year. I am beyond excited to dive back into what I love most - showing students that literature and English can be fun, no matter how much they initially fight me on it. Since I received the news mid-July, I have been brainstorming, prepping, and teaching myself how to use each online outlet. It has been a journey, but a journey I am so grateful for. Like I said, it was a tough time for those seeking teaching positions, and I'm certain that those who channel their creativity, especially in the times we now live in, will succeed, with a little hardwork and determination, of course.

While this year may look a little different, especially because I'm new to the students and all they'll really get a glimpse of are my eyes and hair, it is a challenge I am willing to accept. My job is to teach, and teach I will do. Hopefully, I can stay more active on The Truth About Coffee. I'm confident that the stories I'm harboring for larger projects will meet the masses soon enough. But, I also know that in my crazy life, there are bound to be story-worthy moments to share with the world. Here's to my second year as a high school English teacher, and my first year planning a wedding, house shopping, and living my best life. As always, coffee carries me through each and every day - especially a good whipped coffee - and I guess Mr. Know-it-All plays a substantial role in my sanity. Until next time ...