It was late December of 2019. The school principal wanted to speak to me in his office, when I had time. The last two months, I’d been teaching at a school nearby home, filling in for a mathematics teacher who’d been hit by a burn-out. I’d done so, despite the fact that I wasn’t a maths teacher back then, just a science teacher. But they needed someone fast, and I couldn’t say no to the challenge. Let me be frank here: I never cared much for maths back in high school, thought I’d never need it, and never looked at it again after graduating to college. This meant that I had to work my butt off, just to be able to teach the material.
But with the exams already behind us, the students receiving their report cards, and nothing unusual that had happened, I had no idea what the principal wanted to see me about. Informally, he’d already told me that my assignment might last a while longer. Perhaps he’d have official confirmation. I asked as much when I entered his office. ‘No,’ he replied. He went on to explain they’d found an actual maths teacher, who’d be coming in to replace me, right after the holidays.
They? Well, this assignment combined two schools, so there were two principals to deal with. One, a slightly overweight Captain Birdseye. The other, a grey-haired woman somewhere in her sixties, who used to be a maths teacher way back when. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out whose standards I couldn’t live up to. She’d left Captain Birdseye in charge of cleaning up her mess – not even showing up herself.
He wanted to be nice about it, adding I could use him as a reference for my CV. Still, I was pissed off and it probably showed. I knew what this meant: I had two weeks time to find employment elsewhere, or I wouldn’t get paid for the Christmas holidays. Such a great way to go into the holidays. Merry Christmas. He asked me to hand over all of the textbooks to one of his subordinates, adding, “Perhaps mathematics just ain’t your thing.” A meaningless comment, really, as I was always upfront with my background as a science teacher instead of maths, perhaps even to a fault. However, I disliked that comment intensely, just for how it seemingly nullified all of the hard work I’d done and satisfaction I’d felt during the previous two months – both for myself and for my students. I kept it professional, but I was fuming on the inside.
Obviously, some other stuff happened following March 2020 – you might’ve noticed something of a pandemic floating around. But one year later, around March of 2021, I decided to sign up at my old college, to get my maths degree. One advantage to the pandemic: colleges had become much more open-minded to distance learning. This time, I’d be combining full-time work with my studies. But that was fine. All I needed was a chance. From then on, I studied like never before, racking up hundreds of hours of study time (I kept a record). It meant sacrificing much of my free time, but somehow I loved it. One year later, my hard work paid off. I’m proud to say I earned that degree, and my marks weren’t too bad either. All in all, it turned out to be a great decision, and it paid off in other ways which I couldn’t have foreseen. Life is a storm, my young friend.
Kind regards
Vincent J. Dancet