Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. ~Theodore Roosevelt

I had an interesting opportunity to sit in on a panel that was interviewing people that wanted to be a principal for a new school that is being built in Salem.  In addition to just being a principal, which is a huge job by itself, this school is going to be a lab school.  This means that in eight of the classrooms there will be 1-way mirrors for observations at anytime.  There will also be cameras in the classrooms that will go directly to three local universities to be used with pre-service teachers.  It will also become a place where many student teachers are housed. It is a very exciting project that connects the learning in a university to real-world teaching.

As I listened to the candidates talk about why they wanted to be the principal of this new school and the plans they had, as well as the considerations that the panel made when trying to come to a decision for who would be the best person for the job, I tried to keep the lens of a teacher.  I asked myself each time, "If I were working in that school, would I want to work for them?"  Even when the answer was "yes" my answer was still "no".

The teachers that will work at that school will work harder than any other teachers in the district (and I say that knowing the hard working teachers there already are).  I just don't want to work that hard.  It isn't reasonable for anyone to work that hard.  I understand the stakes...there are children that need to be ready to participate in society, to the best of their ability.  They need to be able to read and write.  They need to be able to think and express themselves.  They need to be able to problem solve and think critically.  They need to be able to do that and a whole lot more.

In some of the small talk that was going around before and between the interviews, several expressed that the excitement around this project makes them want to go back into the classroom.  I am sure they were thinking about the classrooms in this school, but I started to think about the classroom in general.  I sat there a bit baffled at my reaction which was "not with a ten-foot pole". (An opinion I kept to myself.)

It isn't that I couldn't do the work.  I know I could.  I just don't want to.  I fought a long time to even get a job after we moved from Montana.  I spent three years being temporary, hoping every year that I would get picked up again. I see that same passion and want in the eyes of the teachers I serve, willing to do just about anything to be a teacher.  And here I am....12 years later, scared at the possibility of having to do it again.

There are "greats" in every profession.  The people that are at the top of their game and well-respected.  The people that others strive to be.  Actors and musicians come to mind first, but my thoughts quickly turn to more common "greats".  The editors of a newspaper, a manager of a store, director of an IT department...those that have risen up to become leaders in their field. They have gotten there because of unrelenting dedication to their field; probably sacrificing things to become great.

My thoughts then turn to what was sacrificed.  Was it the relationships in those peoples lives?  Did they compromise their health?  Was it time?  There is only so much a person can give...something had to be sacrificed.

I think I was a great teacher.  I think I could be a great teacher again.  But I don't think I could be a great teacher without sacrificing the things that I am not willing to sacrifice.  There are other things I want to be "great" at...things that are more important to me.  So that leaves me a bit stuck, doesn't it?

I suppose it is safe to say that things will continue to change and as they do my feelings about all of this might change too.  I would have never thought 12 years ago that I would be where I am...it is probably reasonable to assume that I can't really predict what thing will be like in another 12.

So I guess until I get there I just need to remember Teddy's words and do what I can, with what I have, where I am.