Front Seat of a Rollercoaster

You know that feeling? The one where you make that bold decision to sit right at the front of a rollercoaster? And as soon as you sit down and click the shoulder holder into it's uneasy, wobbling position you immediately have that sensation that thousands of butterflies have somehow infiltrated your stomach and are about to burst out of your mouth and unfortunately land on the people behind you? You know, that feeling.

That feeling immediately goes away as soon as your realize that the other people on that rollercoaster are fully committed as well. You look into the eyes of the person sitting beside you and that innate collaborative realization calms you down; lets do this! The coaster begins to slowly trudge along, non-chalantly providing the sounds of chain rattles and creaking wood that you swear havn't been properly serviced since the coaster's construction. The next 3-5 minutes of your life are all uphill. You struggle with the battle of knowing what happens at the top of this hill and forget to enjoy the view. Most of the time you are scared to look over the edge in fear of falling or something going awry.

You finally reach the top and depending on your personality, you're either frightened or exhilerated. You have two options; close your eyes and scream at the top of your lungs or enjoy the ride, eyes wide open. Sure, the rest of ride is filled with dark tunnels, unpredictable turns and the odd moment where you find yourself upside down and thinking you're in for it now, but its what is inbetween these moments where you realize the value of the experience.

The rollercoaster suddenly hits those brakes that give you whiplash, reminding you that you are still on the ride but cruises back into the loading station. It eases to a stop and the pressure of your harness releases allowing you to breath again. If you're like me, you sit there for a minute smiling and then gently exit and stand there looking around, observing that same look you had earlier on the faces of those waiting in line, just hoping that they keep their eyes open and enjoy the ride. Enjoying those peaceful moments and embracing the dark tunnels, unpredictable turns and that moment when you find yourself upside down.

This rollercoaster was my first year as a teacher in the Grande Prairie Catholic School District. I didn't have a clue what I was getting myself into as I called Greg Miller back in mid-August accepting a position. The next month I could've swore those butterflies in my stomach where multiplying exponentially. Finding a place to live, solidifying certification, a new curriculum, and a school in mourning were those uneasy moments of boarding the rollercoaster, thinking to myself if I can just get the attention of the person running the control panel I can jump off the ride before it is too late. I would be lying if I said I didn't consider it.

It was the uphill struggle that came next. Trying to impress administration by showing that I was an effective teacher, involving myself in whatever I could, and eventually turning my living room into my school office littered with position papers, lesson plans, and technology all so I could at least be in the same room as my wife. I had put the blinders on. You know, I was afraid to look over the edge and enjoy the view because I was so consumed of reaching the top in fear of the immediate drop that was inevitable. My footing came in early November, or the top of the rollercoaster as I've referred to it. I caught up. I opened my eyes to the experience. In all honesty, the only reason I opened my eyes at the top of the ride can only be credited to one man; Mr. Bill Good. A former Principal turned Subsititute Teacher casually walked up to me, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You know Justin, you're too young to not be smiling. Next time I see you, I hope you have a genuine smile." That was it. That is when I 'opened my eyes for the rest of the ride'. I took my wife to Jasper. I laughed and celebrated so hard with the volleyball team when we won Bronze at the Provincials in Edmonton.

The rest was awesome! I found that balance to teaching. I mean sure, the rest of year threw deadlines, paperwork, exams, a portfolio, and a whole lot of snow. But it also gave me the opportunity to share in a weekend with all of the graduates celebrating the end or beginning of their journey (however you look at it), a top shelf group of lads that came together for an amazing Rugby experience, great friendships were formed with colleagues, so many laughs were shared in the classroom with my students, and perhaps the best part was that by the end of the year I felt a part of something. That moment of self-actualization that we all aspire to presented itself.

The final brakes surfaced as exams began and the marking added up, but that only lasts so long and then you're left reflecting on the past 10 months. There have been dark tunnels, unpredictable turns, and at moments, yes, I have found myself feeling upside down wondering if I'm going to slip out my seat. But as this week comes to an end, and I find myself sitting in the front seat of a ride that is just about to stop I can't help but think; let's get back in line. Let's do this again. I want to teach in September...

but after a well-deserved summer break.

Have a great summer everyone! Stay safe!