I have been a teacher for almost twenty-five years. I have taught in some really strange places. I have taught on every level in teaching there is. I have taught high schools, middle schools, elementary schools, in colleges and at a university. Today I taught in preschool. After teaching today, I came home and cried. I have no roots. I have touch the lives of so many people’s children. All remember me some how. But what have I really accomplished? Not much really. That is sad. What would I have to accomplish to feel like I have truly done something worthwhile? I have no answer to that question.
I have so many questions to ask God. I ask, but I can’t feel the answers. Why did God make me a talented and gifted teacher without a classroom? Why must I get up every school day and wonder if I will be able to make enough money this week to pay the car note in our almost worthless car? Why is it I cannot help my children like others appear to help theirs? I am tired of always feeling useless.
I am a substitute teacher. A substitute teacher is a stand-in for the real thing. I do not need to be talented, real smart, competent or liked. I just need to be able to fill a seat when the real teacher is sick or something else. So all that education I spent thousands on has really done little for me. Why? I go everywhere and see people working. They get up every workday and know where they are going and what they are to do for the next eight hours. Not me! Not me! Maybe it is in my own head, but people feel sorry for me- even those with jobs I do not want to do. I think their eyes are saying, “She can’t get a job. No one wants her. That makes me better. Ha! Ha!”
I feel for myself without help. I do not buy things anymore. I do not look forward to doing anything anymore. I never carry money over two dollars. I never rush because I have nowhere to be. I would love to talk to my mother-but I do not want to die. I have children and a husband. Children grown and husband never home. I have dogs and two cats. I have a brother and two sisters who careless that I exist. A scavengers-that is what I have become. Looking under rocks for a hint of glee.
See, without a way to make an honest living a person’s self-esteem is damaged everyday. How does one look into a mirror and be proud of what is seen when there is so little to be proud of. Begging is never pretty.
My accolades are all from the past, with no promises for any in the future. Am I apathetic? Perhaps complacent? I should feel something! Not like I have lived all of my life already. There is no escape. I do not want my life-like this. I want a wonderful reason to get up in the morning. I need to feel joy in my heart. This cannot be put there by others-Self worth. Where can I buy that? Do you have layaway? I am waiting for a miracle. I am waiting for God to show me my purpose that I can be proud of. I do not want to continue feeling like I have no usefulness any longer. I need a reason to hope.