To my surprise and delight, one of the instructors where I work has decided to move on. That almost never happens. Our positions are coveted and rarely relinquished; I long ago came to accept the notion that I could be waiting five or ten years for someone to retire.
Not only did this create an opening for an instructor in the 2.5-hour afternoon slot (I already have a teaching job for the morning slot), but it just happens to be the one class I’ve been fantasizing about for months and months. I have dreamed of taking over that class, of being the teacher for those students. Of course they are special! Why else would I be drawn to them? It’s the group I’ve blogged about the most, the one predominantly refugees, many of whom have not come from a background of schooling.
I did have to apply and be interviewed. I was holding my breath all last week waiting for the hiring committee to make its decision. Last night I got the call letting me know I’d been selected.
What this means for me is that I am no longer a teaching assistant for half of every day (at half the pay). From now on I have a full load: one class of 12 in the morning and another class of about 10 in the afternoon. Standard classes are twice that big, but mine are both special demographics with a nice limit imposed on the teacher-student ratio.
I am over the moon.