Putting my gift to work

So, like everyone else and their grandmother, I have a blog and "Look, MA" it's all about me...

I find that I am incapable of writing a blog exclusively about myself because when I write myself I want to disclose my soul. Writing is not something I choose to pursue, but a cathartic process that I must do to be at peace with myself.

I firmly believe that everyone on this beautiful planet has a purpose, some more profound than others, but no less important. It's so difficult not to compare myself to those whose purpose happens to extend beyond their small sphere of influence to include the entire world. Whether or not you personally enjoy these people we can agree they've had a measurable impact upon society: Paul Newman, Bill Gates, Ron Clark, and Barack Obama.
Sometimes I read about the amazing work, money, and positive change these famous people have brought forth and I feel so small like nothing I do could possibly compare. At times I am paralyzed with a desire for perfection. After work I lay with a beer and watch shows about these people as a tiny nagging knot of jealousy finds its way into my throat. It's not that I want to be famous or commended, I am just impatient for change and impatient for the right amount of drive; but thanks to an incredibly diverse and challenging group of Irving ISD kids, I think I've finally gathered up just the motivation I was hungry for.

The past year has been a classic example of a wandering twenty-something. Twelve months ago I graduated from my undergrad, left my beloved co-op family, moved to Brooklyn, , started grad school, taught summer school, moved to Houston, lived with my boyfriend of 5+ years, desperately looked for a job, broke up with my boyfriend, moved back in with the parents, and started substitute teaching. Phew! It wasn't easy to move back home or admit failure in a long relationship, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20. Wait a minute, is 20/20 even perfect vision? Someone told me it was 20/19. Who the hell knows?

All that lust for excitement, pining for action, and an obvious purpose led me in a bass-ackwards (as my old boyfriend used to say) journey to find my purpose: of course I am going to become a teacher, but not only that, an adult voice for the students. After six months of subbing in the tumultous district of Irving, Texas I've seen the dark side of education in this country. But didn't you see that in Brooklyn, you ask? I answer that query with a smartass remark; Didn't we already know that impoverished African-American received unequal educations? Well, many of knew that sad fact. What I didn't know is that everywhere, in the areas of the U.S serving kids from The Projects and those serving White Suburbia's children, our children are not first on the list when it comes to education.
In Brooklyn teachers hate their jobs. Well paid Coppell teachers verbally abuse our children. Administrators in Irving grotesquely waste tax-payer dollars. In every city across the land of liberty children are not getting what they deserve and this disgusts me. How has our education system gotten so out of control?

It is with a clenched fist and the memory of hundreds of hugs I've received from students that I march forward towards change. America does not yet have an education system; but a grossly expensive babysitting service that churns out many a disgruntled, uncreative, unmotivated and disheartened adult into society.
I am almost certain I won't be the subject of yet another sappy motivational teacher movie like Dangerous Minds, Stand and Deliver, or Freedom Writers; however I know my purpose is to stand up for our kids and give them the education they deserve.