When we moved to Boise, Idaho in the Spring of 2003, my luxury years of being a stay-at-home mom and a partner in my husband's pastoral ministry had ended. One of the things I had loved about my "Mom Career" had been home-schooling. I know that sounds a little anti-establishment and maybe a little right wing religiously. But teaching my own children sounded fun and it seemed like the benefits would be very positive. It turned out to be great fun and was an incredible outlet for my creativity. And, as I anticipated, there were some positive benefits. But my story is not about homeschooling. It is about pursuing an education career after homeschooling.
So, in 2003, as I looked for a new job, I thought about working in a Montessori school. I had worked many years ago in a Montessori preschool and was attracted to the hands-on learning approach. I applied and was delighted when offered the opportunity to come into a school, teach a lesson of my choice to a group of preschoolers, and then be interviewed. I chose to teach on India, the birthplace of my adopted children. I incorporated visual, smell and taste into my lesson--showing pictures, giving them spices to glue to a sniff chart, and tasting Naan (East India bread). The children were very attentive; I felt confident as I followed the principal to her office at the close of my lesson.
So I was a little taken back when she asked: "If you could describe yourself as any animal, what would it be?" Like how was that relevant? I thought of my dog Willy and the characteristics I liked in him. But a "clever" question required a more clever response. Thinking quickly, I remembered an encounter I'd had in San Diego with a tarantula. Willy and I had just come out the front door onto our cement driveway for our afternoon walk. I spotted what appeared to be a black plastic arachnid and thought, "Oh that Andy (my son)--trying to scare me!"
Willy spotted it too and approached it curiously. As it raised it's leg defensively, I realized that my initial observation was incorrect. It was real! I carefully steered Willy away and continued our walk. It was gone when we returned. Recalling that experience, I told the principal that I would describe myself as a tarantula. Seeing her look of surprise was reward for my cleverness. Why would I describe myself in this way? Well, the tarantula did not back down as Willy and I towered over it. It showed assertiveness. I had come to value this characteristic. Surprisingly, the interview did not impress the principal. I was never called.
Looking back on that interview, I would probably go with my first instinct and give a mushy answer about my dog's characteristics. Not that I don't value assertiveness. As a child, I'd never asserted myself. Children were never allowed to talk back to adults, no matter how valid their perspective may be. I carried my compliant nature into adulthood, which was not a healthy approach to life. As I matured, and began to be my own person, it was empowering. That's a good characteristic to learn, but here's what I would have underlined in my dog's personality:
So I was a little taken back when she asked: "If you could describe yourself as any animal, what would it be?" Like how was that relevant? I thought of my dog Willy and the characteristics I liked in him. But a "clever" question required a more clever response. Thinking quickly, I remembered an encounter I'd had in San Diego with a tarantula. Willy and I had just come out the front door onto our cement driveway for our afternoon walk. I spotted what appeared to be a black plastic arachnid and thought, "Oh that Andy (my son)--trying to scare me!"
Willy spotted it too and approached it curiously. As it raised it's leg defensively, I realized that my initial observation was incorrect. It was real! I carefully steered Willy away and continued our walk. It was gone when we returned. Recalling that experience, I told the principal that I would describe myself as a tarantula. Seeing her look of surprise was reward for my cleverness. Why would I describe myself in this way? Well, the tarantula did not back down as Willy and I towered over it. It showed assertiveness. I had come to value this characteristic. Surprisingly, the interview did not impress the principal. I was never called.
Looking back on that interview, I would probably go with my first instinct and give a mushy answer about my dog's characteristics. Not that I don't value assertiveness. As a child, I'd never asserted myself. Children were never allowed to talk back to adults, no matter how valid their perspective may be. I carried my compliant nature into adulthood, which was not a healthy approach to life. As I matured, and began to be my own person, it was empowering. That's a good characteristic to learn, but here's what I would have underlined in my dog's personality:
- He loved his family. He loved to snuggle. One of my favorite memories is of my husband Tom kneeling on the floor to play a game with the children, while Willy napped across his folded calves. He was always happy to see us when we returned home from our various pursuits.
- He was secure in his knowledge of my love and care for him. It never occurred to him to wonder if I would feed him, or take him to the groomer, or take him to the vet if he was sick. He was an example for me of trusting God.
- He loved nature--the sights and smells of it. While pastoring in San Diego, we took him with us to Camp Maranatha in the San Jacinto Mountains. He'd sleep through most of the two hour trip; but as we neared the small town of Idyllwild, where the camp was located, he'd wake up, smell the air, stand on my lap to peer out the window, and wiggle with excitement.
- He was patient. No matter how much he looked forward to our afternoon walks in San Diego, he curled up at my feet while I finished my afternoon History lesson, sitting on the couch with my daughter, Corina. The minute I closed the book and stood up, though, he dashed joyfully for his leash.
- Finally, he was adventurous. He traveled with us clear across the country to Florida when we moved temporarily to a retirement village (pictured here by the Suwanee River). Then, a year later, he traveled clear across the continent again when we moved to Boise, Idaho. He liked the car rides, the motels, the new and interesting walks.
So, in answer to the stupid interview question, I would talk about my dog, Willy. While I appreciate the importance of learning assertiveness, I value even more the characteristics of love, trust, adaptiveness, and being adventurous. I look forward to adopting a new dog soon.
