I'm moving. Again.
It's a new school. Again.
Remember how I said I wouldn't move, and definitely not to a new build? Yeah, no.
So how did it happen? It was a series of small chips.
I ran into my friend, Leanne, while I was shopping for a Mother's Day gift. We had a nice visit in the middle of the summer dress aisle. She said, "I was just talking about you today at my school. We saw there was a new school opening up and I said, 'I'll bet Greg is going there.'" I told her I had NO interest in going to another new school and that I only had a couple of years left until retirement. Chip.
A week later, Frank, the principal at the new school had his Connecting to Kindergarten (a welcoming to his incoming kindergarten students and families) event hosted at my current school. I was away that day and didn't attend, but those who did said how enthusiastic and inviting Frank was. He had created this culture and vision for his school, despite not having a staff and the building was not yet finished! No building, not staff --- no problem! Chip.
Rewinding a bit... Months earlier, Frank was named as principal of this new school. I was really happy for him. I had worked with him a few schools back, and respected and liked him immensely. I never thought we would work together again, and when he was named to be principal of the new school, I thought that sealed it in never working together again. Frank came by my school occasionally because it was the newest school in our district. We would talk about design elements and furniture choices we had made in opening this school. At that point, I had no interest in moving and besides, there would be so much competition ahead of me for the jobs at the new school, that the point was moot. Little chip.
Fast forward to the day I saw Leanne ... it might have even been the same day. I found out my dear colleague S, passed away. S was always a great inspiration to me. She had the toughest job and the toughest students, but she had the BEST attitude. She always told me to look for the joy in every situation and to look where I could help. Her death was like this large piece that had cracked inside of me, but had not completely broken off, this chunk just hanging inside me. Big chip.
A few weeks later, on a Thursday, the postings for the teacher jobs came out for the Frank's school. I looked at them and just laughed: only 6 classroom positions! Four of them at K and or 1. Who the heck would post on a single 2/3 or the 4/5?! I laughed again. Then I thought about it. All night. Chip. Chip. Chip.
The next day it was constantly in the back of my mind: "Should I stay and just ride out my last couple of years? Or do I have one more new school, one huge challenge left in me?" I went back and forth on this one.
At home after school, I was talking to my wife about possibly posting on the job at Frank's new school. She didn't seem too surprised. She just smiled and said, "Go where you'll be happy. Go where you'll be needed." When she said that, to both of our surprise, tears started streaming down my face. I don't know if it was the lack of sleep, pent up exhaustion built up over the last couple of years, finally grieving over S, or my wife's advice being so close to S's advice. But that big last chunk finally broke off. And I had my answer.
I posted on the 2/3 job that day. I had my interview in the rain, under a tree, on a park bench, with Frank later that week. I didn't like my chances because I'm sure lots of people applied to work with Frank, and in my district's hiring system, I was a lower priority. But somehow the planets aligned and I accepted the 2/3 position at the new school.
It was the weirdest and fastest job process for me. One Thursday I am not looking for a job and then next Thursday, I am going to a place I said I would never go. But realistically, it was a private, emotional sculpting process, months of one chip at a time.
