During yesterday’s bike ride, I found myself pedaling around Anna Reynold’s School in Newington and was suddenly reminded about how this school changed my life.
Back in 1998, I was a student at St. Joseph’s College, preparing for student teaching. The person responsible for assigning students to schools and cooperating teachers was a woman named Dee Peters, and since I was living in Newington at the time, she assigned me to Anna Reynolds Elementary.
On the appointed day and hour, I went to the school to meet with my cooperating teacher for a quick meet-and-greet. We sat down in her classroom while her students were eating lunch in the cafeteria and chatted about my life, her educational philosophy, and my experience volunteering in various schools thus far.
At the end of the meeting, she told me that the college would contact me about my start date shortly. About an hour later, Dee Peters called. She said, “You’ve been rejected as a student teacher by Anna Reynolds School.”
“Oh,” I said.
Dee continued. “You’re the first student in the history of this college to ever be rejected for student teaching.”
“Oh,” I repeated.
“Of course I was rejected,” I also thought. This is how my life works. I’m the guy who was arrested, jailed, and tried for a crime he didn’t commit. I was homeless. Robbed at gunpoint. I’ve died twice and required CPR by paramedics in order to restore my life both times. I was suspended from high school for “inciting riot upon myself.”
Of course I was the first student in the history of St. Joseph’s College to be rejected for student teaching.
Dee demanded to know what I had done wrong, but I had no answers. I thought the meeting had gone well. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I assured her.
Dee told me that she would find me a new placement, but if I was rejected again, she would not recommend me for student teaching, and therefore, I would not be eligible for a teaching license.
My heart sank. Four years of college and no teaching license?
Thankfully, Dee sent me to Griswold Elementary School in Berlin, Connecticut, where I met Maryanne Rothstein, a teacher who was a perfect match for me. She taught me a great deal during my time in her classroom, and over time, she became a good friend.
She also proved to be instrumental to the course of my life.
When it came time to interview for teaching positions, Mrs. Rothstein convinced me to interview with West Hartford Public Schools, even though the district seemed too large and too fancy for my liking.
I didn’t think I was West Hartford material.
When Newington Public Schools had already offered me for a full time teaching position a month later, it was Mrs. Rothstein who convinced me to continue interviewing until I had signed a contract.
And when Plato Karafelis, principal of Henry A. Wolcott School in West Hartford, was considering hiring me, he called Mrs. Rothstein for a reference and asked just one question:
“Does he care about teaching as much as he cares about writing?”
Mrs. Rothstein’s answer: “No. He cares more about teaching than anything else.”
I may have never interviewed with West Hartford Public Schools had Mrs. Rothstein not pushed me in that direction. I almost certainly would’ve settled for that teaching position in Newington had she not convinced me to continue interviewing. And Plato Karafelis may have never hired me had she not given him that answer.
What happens if I never teach at Wolcott School?
I never meet Elysha, and I don’t stumble my way into the perfect life. My closest friends, my best memories, and my children don’t exist if Plato doesn’t hire me.
Being rejected by that Anna Reynolds teacher turned out to be quite a turning point in my life.
Thinking back on that fateful day at Anna Reynolds Elementary School, less than a mile from my home, I suspect the reason that I was rejected was a simple one:
I was attending St. Joseph’s College at the time, which was an all-woman’s college. I had exploited a loophole in a consortium agreement between colleges that had allowed me to earn a degree in English at Trinity College while simultaneously completing a full degree program in elementary education at St. Joseph’s College as the only man in every class.
I think that teacher at Anna Reynolds was expecting a 21 year-old young woman to walk in her classroom that day. Instead, she got a 27 year-old man, and it simply wasn’t what she expected.
Either that or I said some incredibly stupid things during our meeting, which is also entirely possible if you know anything about me.
Either way, things seem to have a way of working out, even if the road is rocky and sometimes seemingly impassable.
I’m trying to remind myself of this fact every day as this pandemic continues and the light at the end of the tunnel is almost impossible to see. The light will come. The world will return to normal, even if it sometimes feels impossible.
