I didn’t know what to do. I had always done for others: packing lunches, making appointments, fixing problems. There were many options available. The local Hallmark store used people like me. My sister belonged to many bridge clubs. One marketable skill that worked for me was typing. With a little footwork, I found a job at a community college registering young kids into classes. It was nice. But as I looked around at my bosses, I sneered at their authority. They were considerate, but not that bright, and certainly not very hard working. Surely I was smarter and more competent. But I didn’t have the credentials. If I wanted more, I too would have to earn the qualifications. Considering my general lack of success as a student in the past, how would I do any better now? Did I have the confidence and brains to make something of myself?

A toe in the water

There are some people who are good at talking. My brother John, a teacher of many years and a classic midwestern pragmatist, is one of those. I phoned him to discuss the possibility of making a change in my life. Rousing my courage, I quietly mentioned that I might go back to school to get a teaching certificate. Getting the words out of my mouth was like pulling my insides out. The idea seemed silly. I felt like a kid. John crushed through my mental barriers, getting straight to my strength: my brain. “Teaching, Janet, has one requirement,” he snapped, “A mind, and you have a good one.” He concluded that the plan was sane and achievable.

The next morning I tested the idea on my husband. He was getting ready for work when I sat up in bed, grimaced, and blurted out that I wanted to be a teacher. My plan was to register for classes and begin within the week. He listened, turned, and said, “That’s a great idea.”

Those were the go-ahead words. I was on the move, beginning a career mid-life.

Diving in

Within four years I had finished my bachelor’s degree and teaching certificate; within six, I had an MA. I was like a terrier on a rat mission. Once I got my nose in the academic system, no one could pull me out. At home I locked myself in my bedroom to study to my heart’s content. At the university, young students looked at me dismissively until the first test scores were published. Then they let me have front row seats—and sometimes asked to borrow notes.

That much accomplished, I entered a competitive market and was offered two teaching positions within a short time. Counting up, I’ve been teaching second-graders and third-graders for going on sixteen years.

And this is what I have learned the hard way. It’s all about self-respect. There are different ways of saying this. I demand more. I study hard. I set goals. I contribute. I am passionate. I focus. I care. I have confidence. Life is as dull or as invigorating as I decide. Another twenty years into it, and I love it.