How it came to be

So I have covered the 'why', now it is time to cover the 'how.' I have actually renamed this blog- it was all set to cover my mixed emotions about leaving but I'm not ready to write that one yet. A discussion with colleagues tipped me that way, but ultimately, it is a story for another day. (or more likely I am just not ready to go through what it means to be leaving. It has begun to set in but by-no-means is it there yet.)

I never intended to leave. Despite declaring to some earlier in the year that things could very well go that was if I was dissatisfied, I never took such a boast seriously. Indeed, so close to hanging it up was I that the thought of leaving the profession was closer than merely changing workplaces.

Though of course, I had A&A in my ear. Like two devils on my shoulder they prodded, coerced and most importantly, encouraged me to keep going. When the boss moved to Taylors Lakes SC I only saw opportunity. Certainly immediate opportunity (how quaint then that they would later tell me to be patient) but long term opportunities now that I had actual friends in high places. When the English Coordintator positioned popped up, I was up for it. The pain in the arse KSC (SEVEN criteria with a FIVE page limit!) was the best professional development I have ever done. Forced to list, describe and justify my four year career through the lens of my leadership skills and knowledge. I had done some outstanding things in the classroom, I had made sure I was involved in a number of different areas- sport, music, productions, student leadership, classroom management, peer observation, ICT workshops and leading English and Literacy in different ways. My list of achievements was entirely deliberate and, in some way, had been designed to learn as much about myself from others as I could in the four years I had been there.

The writing though was just practice. Nothing more. Being shortlisted was of course a terrific bonus. It was also the perfect excuse to get a new suit, but it wasn't until the morning of the interview that it occured to me that I could actually go. Now, of course the incumbent got the position, but it was eating breakfast that morning that I realised if I was prepared to interview then I needed to be prepared to commit. Seeing Arthur when I got there calmed my nerves.

And I tanked the interview.

Actually, that is misleading. For the first time in my life there was a job I missed out on. I had already submitted my Strathmore application by then and soon followed with my RSC apps (all frickin FOUR of them- thank god for the Taylors Lakes rehearsal.) Missing the TL one cut deep but only momentarily. The feedback the boss there gave me surprised me (I hadn't dealt with someone that high up before who actually went above-and-beyond for, well, me). Despite my vast number of different experiences covered in my application, I had not managed to convince them in the interview. This knowledge was incredibly valuable, as were the specific suggestions I received on what I needed to include for each question type. His voice was warm as he spoke through his notes and took me through the highs and lows of my application and the interview. It was my inexperience that was killing me. Thanks to his guidance my interview experience had grown. My first failure became my triumph.

By now most know the next set back. Three days, three interviews and four jobs. Zero chance. There were other forces at work, no doubt about it now, but all were a positive experience. I still haven't received feedback and have no intention of asking for any. I was mad. No doubt about that. Let down and disappointed. Had people pumped me up? Certainly, and I would like to think with good reason. I wouldn't have applied if I didn't think I was the MAN. But decisions were made and I understand the rationale, though I clearly disagreed with it. (Do I now? Yes and no. I have moved beyond it.)

So angry was I that I worked double on the interview the next day. I didn't bother with morning briefing, and kept my first class on auto-pilot. I was stopped when I was due to left and presented with a number of alternatives. Generous ones too I might add. But if there is one thing I know about myself- I don't do second best very well. I was in a hurry but couldn't afford to be rude so I politely declined the offer and said I would think about it.

I listened to Megadeth's Peace Sells in the car on the way over.

A fire burned as I headed through the yard in the rain. And my nerves calmed as I chatted with someone from my brother's year at primary school. I entered AUTOMATIC doors (!!) and dried off while I waited. It was the most bizarre of the six interviews I ended up doing (there would be another in between Strathmore's interview and acceptance). No questions in advance. Just my raw notes and little time to think. Dad's tricks (water!) came in handy here, as did the earlier feedback. I eased up quicker than I had in most of the others and chatted generally about grammar and literature, and more specifically about the problems confronting Year 7 and 9 NAPLAN results. It felt good. The fire pushed me through it. I headed back out into the rain knowing I may have another option, and that the setbacks so far would pay off at some point. That I did not know when no longer bothered me. I just needed to keep pushing and keep applying. I drove back and changed the CD to Ben Harper and Relentless7 (Boots Like These and Shimmer And Shine). I went back to my Year 12s, in one of my smokin' new suits, and helped them practice reading time. No idea what they thought. I will admit now that "Holy shit I'm a traitor!" did pop into my mind while they worked. I was better, as I often am, once I removed my tie.

When they rang me to come in I was skeptical. I countered on nothing after the earlier experiences.

Then he said he was willing to take a punt on me.

It was all I had wanted to hear since the journey began.
I was leaving.
And Ashok called me a twat.