Critical Teaching Moment

Teachers Can’t Afford Horses

            Kindergarten:  Colored blocks with brick patterns, playing house with bossy-mommy Kristen, eating graham crackers with peanut butter made for us by Mrs. Wumdrum the teacher’s aid.  She stamps my right hand red and my left hand green.  I want to be a horse, galloping all around the recess yard, chasing the other children.  The others play along and we all laugh and smile.  Mommy and I visit the Lindsey Wildlife Museum to see all the animals.  Nice people come by to tell me things like how squirrels use their tales to talk to each other and plant pine trees by burying acorns in the ground.  Mommy tells me these people are called docents, a fancy museum word for teacher.  Mommy scolds me for galloping around the exhibits and tells me horses aren’t allowed inside museums.

            Second grade:  People can’t be horses; that’s silly.  I will be a horse trainer.  I will train beautiful animals to fly over brightly painted obstacles and float down onto the other side.  People will come from around the world with their most prized colts and fillies just to listen to my advice and ask for my help.  I will be rich and famous and own a huge ranch in Montana where the cowboys live.  I will buy a truck with dualies to pull my favorite horses to all the best shows around the country.  We raise chickens and ducks in Mrs. Navarro’s class.  She is the best teacher ever!  I go to summer science camp at the Lindsey Wildlife Museum where I learn all about native species of California.  The teachers are really nice and know a lot about animals.  It’s neat, but would be even cooler if we learned about horses.      

            Fifth grade:  My dad tells me that I should be a lawyer since I am so good at arguing.  People get paid to argue?  This is definitely for me.  “Besides,” he says, “you can buy ten horses with the money you will make being a lawyer.”  I start watching Law and Order with a purpose, practicing facial expressions and finger pointing.  I research all the best universities and law schools.  Hey!  Berkeley is close to my home town!  I could go to Boalt and still be able to come home for dinner.  Mrs. Beringer reads Where the Red Fern Grows and we are a chorus of tears for Old Dan and Little Ann.  I love when she read to us.  I attend another summer camp at the Lindsey Museum where I learn how to make a rain stick and identify animal tracks.  I cut open a squid and paint a picture of a horse with the ink.

            8^th grade:  I am an Ornithologist, but not by choice.  I scour the hillsides in search of 40 native bird species so that I may “identify, categorize, observe and sketch” them for my science teacher, Mrs. Norse.  She stays after school to help us, even though she lives an hour away.  Lawyers wouldn’t have to do this much work.  My brother says they would just have their legal aids do it.  It would be a lot faster to find these stupid birds if I were riding a horse.  I’ll just go to the Lindsey and use some of the birds they have on display there and ask the docents where they would be found in the wild.  Since I’m a summer camp counselor now, they will let me in the back to get a better look.  My mom starts teaching cooking classes at the high school.  How embarrassing. 

            Freshman year of high school:  My computer teacher is old and smells like booze.  She always stands so close to my face when I am typing and it makes me mess up.  “Don’t look at your fingers,” she squawks.  She puts a piece of cardboard over my hands and I imagine her falling out of her chair and spilling her Baileys and coffee all over the principal.  Ha, I snicker to myself.  I must research and write a report on what I want to be when I grow up.  Huh, easy, totally already know that I’m going to be a lawyer, duh.  I skim books and look up websites to find out more details about being a lawyer.  “You must acquire an undergraduate degree at a distinguished university majoring in law or some other related field of study.”  No problem.  “You must take and pass the LSAT to be admitted into law school.”  No problem.  “You must graduate law school and take the Bar Exam to become a practicing lawyer.”  Yeah, whatever.  “Much of your work will be researching and filing paperwork.  Very few lawyers actually tri cases in court.”  Huh?  “Most lawyers spend 30 times as long preparing paperwork than they do actually arguing a case.”  Uh…  “Often times, lawyers are required to write and rewrite legal documents to satisfy various other legal consultants and judges.  This can take months or even years.”  Wait a minute.  I finish the project, and start looking into veterinary medicine with an emphasis in equine sciences.  The teachers at the Lindsey ask me to be a group leader because of how good I am with the children.  They say I am a natural, whatever that means.  I will help train and supervise the camp counselors, make the snacks and run games.  Games are fun, kids are pretty neat.

            Junior year of high school:  I love biology.  OH how I love biology.  Mr. Pruitt is amazing!  He actually worked on the Human Genome project!  The information is interesting and there are always new things being discovered.  Give me more science people!  I dissect a cat, a starfish, a tapeworm and a fetal pig.  All the other girls squirm while my friend Andria and I pull out the brain and giggle with excitement because we can see the different lobes just like in the diagram.  Mr. Pruitt makes friendly jokes at our enthusiasm and tells me I should be a surgeon.  Equine surgeon?  I could save racehorses!  I would travel all over the country mending broken legs and saving valuable animal lives.  I tell this to the teachers at the Lindsey Museum and they smile and say that sounds nice.  I help them plan lessons for the campers and they make positive remarks about how I work with children.  “You could be a teacher you know,” they say.  “Teachers can’t afford horses,” I reply.  I get a job at the Lafayette Animal Hospital and watch the surgeries on my lunch break while eating McDonalds french-fries.

            Fall semester of Freshman year in college:  I did it!  I got accepted to Northern Arizona University with a major in microbiology and a minor in pre-veterinary sciences.  I even got a scholarship!  Now I can study science in a real research lab with real scientists!  I take an introduction to medical sciences course.  They have speakers come in to talk to us about being doctors and veterinarians.  They tell us about the hours they spent in labs working on research and the long, sleepless nights spent reading technical manuals.  They speak in dead voices and have dark bags under their eyes. 

            We are asked to shadow a doctor or vet of our choice for ten hours.  I choose the local large animal vet and can’t wait to see what I will learn.  I drive thirty minutes out of town to a small ranch-like office where two 40-something year old men are treating a Palomino with foot rot.  They let me clean and dress the wound all myself!  I bend over and wedge the horses hoof between my knees, the veterinarians exchange family stories and jokes.  “How’s Sheila?” one asks the other.  The younger looking doctor glances down at his wedding ring and gives a sarcastic gasp of surprise.  “Oh!  My wife!  I had almost forgotten about her after a week of graveyard shifts.  And I haven’t seen my kids for more than 20 minutes all week.  I think they have a soccer game today.  How about you?  Are you going to be able to make is to Disney Land after all?”  I shift my weight suddenly feeling a little off balance.  “Nope, no family vacation this year.  I’m booked all the way through next spring.  And besides, I still have $20,000 in student loans to pay off.”  I put the final touches on the bandage and set the horse’s hoof down carefully.  The vets glance at my work and nod to one another.  On my way back to the dorm I call my mom and she asks how my classes are going.  I start to cry. 

            Winter break of Freshman year in college:  No papers, no classes, no more.  Enough.  I have an e-mail from Connie at the Lindsey Museum.  Where did I put the supplies for the rain sticks?  How many pieces of yarn do they need to play the habitat game?  Which owl did I use for the nocturnal animal activity?  Can the teachers use my horse hair art lesson?  The children are asking about me.  The children…  The children!  That’s it!  I am going to see the counselor. 

            Today:  Cut paper, label nametags, file paperwork, tie shoes, plan lessons, read stories, take notes, supervise recess, wipe tears, attend meetings, document behaviors, comfort parents, create change, open hearts, expand minds, foster curiosity.  Tommy makes a robot out of orange squares and green triangles.  I show him how to take a picture with my digital camera.  Amy writes a story about the ice cream shop.  We discuss strawberry, chocolate and rainbow sherbet with crunchy-sweet toppings.  Simon reads excitedly in the book nook.  He tells me that the T-Rex was as tall as a building.  Bella skips around in the grass.  She stops to neigh and toss her hair.  I smile.  She thinks she wants to be a horse.