I Finally Knew What I Wanted To Be A Teacher, 2002-2007, by Michelle O'Connor

From MemoryArchive

Who: Michelle O'Connor
What: Becoming a teacher
When: Last 5 years
Where: 

Excerpts from The Edgerton Journal, Edgerton, Kansas: "PIONEER PASSES AWAY. Martha Wilson was born in Hancock county, Ohio, February 8, 1834. She died at her home in Edgerton, Kansas, December 24, 1914. She came to Kansas with her brother, the late William Wilson, in 1857 and was the first schoolteacher in the county, having taught school in a little log schoolhouse on the Kelly farm. Mrs. Smith was a woman of strong constitution and wonderful vitality. She is survived by her son James Wilson and daughters Mary, Minnie and M.E. The bereaved son and daughters have the sincerest sympathy of all in their sorrow and loss."

“The doctor will be right with you Mrs. O’Connor... Michelle, I have run the tests we talked about and I have concluded that you have Attention Deficit Disorder. What I previously thought was depression was actually the ADD. It is not uncommon for someone like you to go undiagnosed for this long. Many doctors believe that ADD can go undiagnosed especially in girls. You were probably accused of not paying attention or day-dreaming. ADD tends to run in families. I know you stated that your brother is dyslexic and sometimes we see a relationship with dyslexia and ADD. I would like you to read the book, Out of the Fog and I am going to give you a prescription for Ritalin. Please come back in 4 weeks for a follow up.”

I Finally Knew What I Wanted To Be...

I never had a career path... I never really knew what I wanted to do. I drifted from job to job and finally started working in a major downtown bank. In high school I talked to my counselor about becoming an art or business teacher but she advised me against becoming a teacher. She told me to choose a career in business where I could make more money. Soon the thoughts of teaching were forgotten and I began to pursue a business degree; which would take me ten years and seven universities to complete.

It was a sunny day in May 1997 and I was sitting in my office. I had the important title, the salary and the student loans but something was missing. I sat there and read a saying that I had on my computer to remind me about how important being a mom was. But on this day as I read it I realized it was talking to me about what was missing. 100 hundred years from now it will not matter what kind of car you drove, how much money you had in the bank or what type of house you lived in, but the world might be a better place because you were important in the life of a child. I wasn’t making a difference in my daughter’s life, I was gone too much for work — I was missing her life. So I quit, I found a part-time job and before I knew it I was substitute teaching and was in an elected position on my local school board. I had jumped feet first into every aspect of education and I was enjoying every bit of it.

Mr. and Mrs. James Wilson Smith announce the birth of their daughter Mary Elizabeth on August 3, 1907. Her brother Ralph Argyle and sister, Esther Louise, welcome Mary Elizabeth home.

Miss Esther Louise Smith formerly of Edgerton has accepted a teaching position in Anchorage, Alaska. Miss Smith teaches the foreign languages of French and Spanish. Prior to teaching in Alaska she taught for three years in Spain and for six years in Arizona. Miss Smith is the sister of M. E. Erickson who teaches Home Economics and Driver’s Education at Olathe High School.

I always knew something was wrong with me but I never knew what it was. When your brother was diagnosed with dyslexia I thought maybe that was it but it wasn’t. Now that you have been diagnosed and all the things you have told me about the books you have read, I finally know what is wrong with me. I’m 54 years old and I have the answer to what has plagued me all these years. I’m too old to take any drugs, I am just grateful to finally know what it is.

As a board member I learned about hiring teachers with alternative certification. I started thinking that I could do that...all I needed was someone to hire me. I applied for a 7th / 8th grade position in a small, rural community close to my home. The pay was extremely low but I’d have insurance and a path to teaching. I interviewed with the school board and they asked a few questions and then asked me how I felt about the separation of church and state. Being the president of my board I knew the question was inappropriate, but I told them that I felt our forefathers had never intended for God to be removed from everything and before I could finish one of the board members offered me the job! I was going to be a teacher; I could imagine my grandmother cheering from the heavens above!

My classroom was inviting, my dress was “teachery” and my smile was plastered on...it was open house! My first student to arrive was John. He was quiet and looked down at the floor while his mother told me about John’s problems with his past instructors and school in general. John has ADHD and she asked me if I knew what that meant and how I would be dealing with an ADHD student in the classroom. I looked her in the eye and said I didn’t know, but since I had been diagnosed with ADD ten years earlier I felt that I would hopefully be able to help him be successful in the classroom. John commented that he would never be successful in a classroom and that he wasn’t very smart. As a matter of fact, I soon found out that John didn’t think very highly of himself or his abilities.

John’s strategy was to attack before being attacked. He was the wise cracker who could dish it out but wasn’t very good at taking it. Fortunately, I have a high tolerance for teenage attitude and I was able to maintain some control within the confines of the classroom. I communicated regularly with his mother and through our discussions I felt such compassion for this young man who wanted so desperately to be liked. She shared that last year one of the students in the school had a party and everyone but John had been invited. It made me want to wrap my arms around him.

Excerpts from The Olathe Mirror, Olathe, Kansas: "Typing English themes helps make a hit with the professors at Emporia State Teachers College says Louise Erickson, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence M. Erickson, of 919 S. Troost Avenue, Olathe. Miss Erickson, a 1956 graduate of Olathe High School, is a freshman majoring in business and home economics. She is shown here in her room in Morse Hall, the women’s residence hall at Emporia State Teachers College."

“You really want to be a teacher?” My mother asked me with a look of bewilderment in her eyes. “Are you sure?” She had broken the mold, paved the way for her children and her children’s children to pursue careers in anything they wanted. “But you have such a great job, you just got a promotion and you can end up being a bank officer.” She had proved that just because all those before you were teachers didn’t mean that one had to “settle” for teaching.

I looked at her and I smiled, “Mom I really like it!” I’ve been subbing and I think this is something I could be good at.” She never lost that look of bewilderment; she just sighed and said that if that’s what I want then she supports my decision. My mom didn’t live to see me become a teacher, she died four months before.

I developed some strategies to help John. I rearranged the desks and placed John over by the book bins. I did this because John was constantly remembering something and having to get up and get it. This of course interrupted the class, but I understood that it wasn’t intentional. Now he didn’t have to get up. I “found” a box of milk straws and gave them to John to chew on instead of his pens. John wasn’t stupid. He began to realize some of the reasons I was doing things were to help him and no one else but him knew that.

Our hall discussions took a different turn. Instead of me telling him what he was doing wrong, I started offering him strategies to deal with impulsiveness and ADD. There were times when he was angry and defensive and I was facing a brick wall. At those times, I would ask him to take a note to the principal. Of course with John, a one minute walk to the office took five minutes. Once there, the principal would have him wait a minute to take back her reply. John never knew that we were sending smiley faces back and forth or that his 10 minutes out of the class had allowed him to regain some composure.

I will never forget John, and I believe that I made a difference in this one child’s life. He no longer puts himself down and he has some confidence in his abilities. We chat occasionally online and the last time we spoke, I told him how proud I was of him and that high school would be tough, but I knew he would be successful. He answered back…yeah thanks Mrs. O….u r kewl! So much for English class but I finally know what I always wanted to be—a teacher.