Kids

This last spring, after finishing courses for a bachelor's degree in Planning and Environmental Policy through Huxley College of the Environment of WWU, at the ripe young age of 21, I found myself wonder, what am I to do next? I was working at a paint-your-own-pottery studio in Port Angeles, WA. I taught a children's class twice a week. It was fun but somewhere among the chaos of broken pottery and not being able to cash my paychecks, I felt a movement inside of me to get out, to do something with my life.

I knew this job was temporary, though it was hard to let go of since the staff had welcomed me like family, which meant a lot coming to a land I had maybe been to three in my 12 years in Washington state. It was home, it was fun, it was family. But I had the bug.

I applied for an internship with Olympic National Park and somehow landed the spot. I had no idea what a park ranger did! In high school, I remember thinking that park rangers drove around in the woods all day and fixed trails and cleaned bathrooms (minus the toilet troubles I thought they'd have it real good.)

So there I was, my first day of the job. What do I do? What am I here to do? I was told that in two weeks I would be teaching a summer school class of high school students.

Gasp.

Really? Well, of course I was up for it, what a great opportunity! Then I started to get nervous. I was at the most 5 years older than these kids.. Kids? Could I call them that? It seemed like only a few short years ago when I was in their position. Would they take me seriously?

I arrive on the first day, it would seem that they were more nervous than me. I couldn't remember what it was like to sit in a class of high school students, nor could I remember the last time I did so. The got off topic, asked me if I had a gun (apparently when you are in uniform you are the authority and can arrest people, or so I am told). The first few days we were sniffing each other out, like puppies who just met.

Fourtunately I did not teach the class alone, a substitute teacher, Mr. Z was on my team. I am so thankful he was there. He was an amazing reference to work with. Not only was he a regular substitute for the course material but he had a way with talking to them. I learned how to be a teacher in those three short weeks.

At least in Washington state, it seems as if teachers are community servants. They are payed so little and work so hard to produce the next group of leaders. What more important of a job is there? This experience was unforgettable. I don't remember what I was interested in pursuing before I taught this course, but now I know I want to be active. I want work that has a meaning. I want to be a part of a team, to make a difference in a life, in this life.