How I Got to be Where I Am

At the beginning of 2002, the principal from the Christian school came and strongly urged me to apply for a part time position available here in our town. At the time, the school had only been going for about four years and had been planted by another campus in the next town. After many weeks of hearing his request, I agreed to be interviewed as the position was only for one day a week a fortnight to give the full-time teacher planning time.

I didn't need the job as at the time, I was enjoying a casual teaching job at the local government school usually involving about threee or four days a week. On the days that I didn't teach, I would go down to the beach and stroll there for an hour or so. Some days I would teach for only half a day and could go for a walk then too. Walking along the beach is one of my favourite things to do.

At my interview in February, I sat with two board members and the principal and listened to their questions so that I could reply honestly. After all, I had nothing to lose by this interview. At one stage, due to the intensity of their questions I asked, "Isn't this only a part time job?" and Leslie's reply was, "Well, ye..es, but you never know where God might lead". At the end of the interview, the principal summed up my responses and said, "Carolanne has the heart of a teacher" and they all smiled and agreed and I was employed to teach one day a week, every fortnight.

In April, the full time teacher had to leave due to medical reasons and since she was going to retire at the end of the year, decided to do it right then and there instead. I was thrust into teaching full-time in a one teacher school with 16 students in grades Prep to five, with a "parent campus" in a town 30 minutes drive away. Being a sociable type person, I found the isolation very difficult and our whole family had to make adjustments to fit into this new lifestyle/career change.

The BMF stepped in to support me and to ensure that I had everything I needed to teach. He would ring regularly to check up on me and as he's very passionate about Christian education, he mentored and encouraged me, passing on the vision for this school. Over the years, when I have struggled, he's given me practical help and advice and been a shoulder to cry on which is why, for one of many reasons, I value his friendship.

I could tell you lots of incidences that happened but mostly the last four and half years have been a time of growth for me and for this school campus. I have grown in confidence and enjoyed the challenges of teaching here. I have refined some of the teaching skills I have as well as nurtured the teaching heart God has given me. I am very content and blessed to be teaching here and have no desire, as yet, to move on or to move in a different direction.

The school now has thirty-eight students and two full time teachers, including myself. We have a part time teacher come in for 2 part days a week to give us lesson planning time and me administration time since I have to answer the phones, check the mail and have done most of the promotions (with the BMF) for the past 4.5 years.

Five years ago, if I had have known that I would be in this position now, I would have shied right away from attending that interview. God has had His hand in it all along and has grown me into this job. I love it!!! I am thankful for the families, the students, the colleagues and the friends I have made by being here where I am, today.

Orange Soda, Ponds and Vegemite Glasses

In 2002, we travelled by bus from Seattle to Spokane in Washington State. We were very excited to be finally meeting with our friends Dave and Deb and their family and felt rested and ready for our 9 day stay with them. We peered out the window, looking and videotaping the scenery and were thankful for the beautiful weather. At one of our stops, we bought refreshments including an orange soda. We settled back in our seats, Nathan and Russell behind me and I had an empty space next to me.

Eventually I caught on to the fact that something was not quite right behind me and then Russell suggested Nathan come and sit next to me so I could "deal with the situation". I put my arm around him (N), leaned my head close to his and brushed away his tears as I watched the orange soda snake its way along the floor of the bus. It bumped into handbags and as the bus turned a corner, it would slide over to the other side. Try to imagine, if you can, the squelch of shoes, the sounds of orange soda sticking to people's feet as they move along the aisle of the bus. But I digress....

My heart went out to our almost ten year old son because I know exactly how it feels to spill something at the wrong moment, (is there ever a right moment?) to do something awkwardly and to feel as though the whole world is pointing at you saying, "Clumsy! You're just so clumsy!" I began to recall those times as a child when I wished I could have been swallowed up by the water, instead of just my shoe and I shared my experiences with my dear son.

I was very excited to be invited to my first birthday party! Perhaps I was in grade two or three, so I was about 7 years old, give or take. The party had been lots of fun and games, with the popular girls winning the prizes and for some reason, I found myself out in the front yard, chasing and laughing with others. There was a cute little bridge over a pond and with romantic notions in my head of being a heroine crossing over a raging river, I gleefully stepped onto the bridge.

Unfortunately, I missed a part of it and my foot fell into the water. Water soaked my foot and I squelched off the bridge and emptied the goldfish out of my good shoes. (I hope you realise by now that I do tend to embellish each tale and entry I make.) As I recall, I spent the rest of the party hoping no one had noticed my slip into the pond.

I had a friend who lived around the corner from me and we would take turns visiting each other, always with the parental admonition that we had to be home before dark. My friend's mother was out one day, so we decided to make tomato soup. My recollection of it was that she tipped the contents into the saucepan but the next day, she told me that her mother was not happy that I had splattered the soup over the walls when I had been cooking the soup.

That same friend had a birthday party that year and of course, I was invited. After all, we walked to and from school together, played with our barbies and read books together. The party was full of lots of other ten year old girls and we were laughing and happily enjoying ourselves and in my excitement, I dropped my glass of lemonade and it smashed. Not much was said and the mess was cleaned up before I even left.

Later that night, I was lying in my bed thinking about the day's events (something I still do to this day) when I remembered the broken glass. I was mortified! I felt clumsy and just knew that they were all thinking the same thing about me. I went up to the loungeroom and told mum what had happened. She calmed me down and promised to call the parent the next day. I felt better knowing it was a vegemite glass but this feeling of being clumsy and awkward stayed with me and even now, at my ripe old age of forty, I can still remember those exact feelings.

When I was growing up, I watched beautiful ballerinas floating across the stage on TV and I wished I could dance just like them. I wanted to wear a pretty dress. I wanted to be as graceful as a swan, but that was never to be.

Which is why Russell asked me to reassure Nathan. I hated (and still hate) being clumsy and taller than all of my petite friends. I am still self-conscious when I am with petite friends and do something that I label as being clumsy. Back on the bus in 2002, I took Nathan in my arms and 'apologised' for passing on my clumsy genes to him.

Russell doesn't understand about clumsiness. A few months ago, Nathan broke a glass and Russell impatiently said, "How did you break that glass?! Why were you so careless??!" Nathan looked at me and I gave Russell a withering look. Only a few days later, with that memory fresh in our minds, Russell dropped a glass (probably for the first and last time ever) and it broke. Guess what I said to him!

Cricket, Tadpoles & The Sunday School Anniversary

In the heat of the sun, I stood outside on the bitumen road watching the game of cricket from a distance since I was one of the fielders. Every now and again someone would yell, "CAR!" and we'd all move off the road to the nature strip, watch it pass and then resume our game. Finally, one of my brothers would yell. "Howzatt!!!" and throw the tennis ball up into the air. I'd rush over to the footpath which was the cricket pitch and ask, "Is it my turn to bat yet?"

My brother would reply, "Not yet. You haven't been here long enough and you have to get someone out first. And now it's Glenn's turn to bat, then Alfonzo's, then Gavin's, then Scott's. then......"

As he listed all the names of the neighborhood boys, I realised then, that I would not be getting a turn to bat and I had other things I could be doing. I'd walk inside the house and choose a book to read. I loved, and still love to read. I read all the books I could find and when I was reading, I would be so absorbed in my book, I had no idea what else was going on around me. Even now when I read, I shut myself off to everything else. I do not hear the TV, the people speaking or the sounds of birds singing outside. Sometimes I would take my book and climb up into the tree in the front yard, especially if it was a whodunnit type book. "Inspired" by the book, I would watch the cars passing by (which was very few in our street) and try to memorise their number plates in case they were robbers trying to get away.

During the winter, we would play football across the road on the barren block of land that also led to one of the busiest intersections in the State. That barren land also had a creek running under a bridge and we'd go down the muddy banks with our buckets to go tadpoling. There was a hint of danger since the creek went into a tunnel, rumoured to be a sewer and some children had drowned there once.

We'd take the tadpoles home and throw them into an old bathtub that was in the shed, watching them grow legs, lose their tails and become frogs. Soon the bathtub was empty and mum told us we couldn't go and get some more. I wonder where those frogs hopped to. I know they didn't find their way into my bed so maybe they found their way back to the creek.

It was a Sunday afternoon, the day of our Sunday School Anniversary. Our new dresses that Nanna had made were waiting to be worn, but we thought we had time to go down to the creek for more tadpoling. We rushed off without telling Dad or Mum and climbed down the muddy bank, covering ourselves with mud and grass along the way. We were in the middle of catching tadpoles when Dad came and ordered us all back home. We were in trouble and we were running late.

Angrily, with tears in her eyes, mum got us ready and declared that she would not be able to attend the Anniversary as she didn't have time to get ready herself. I was pretty much devastated and we all sat in the car subdued, on our way to church.

We all went and sat on the platform, sqeezing into our places. Obviously, with five children to get there, we couldn't sneak in. I sang the songs but my heart wasn't in it.

The door opened quietly and I saw mum come and find herself a place to sit. I brushed back a few tears of relief and concentrated on enjoying the rest of the anniversary.

Carolanne - Part 1 - I Was A Child

I started this blog so that visitors can find out more about me without the poor ol' friends having to hear it all over again. There's only so much I can say in one blog post and in a profile. So here goes:

Born on October 8th, 1965, I was the first girl to arrive in a family that would later grow to 6 children. On the day of my birth, my brothers were 3.5 years and 2.5 years older than me and it was 14 months after my birth, that the twins were born - a sister and another brother. The 6th child, who is my 2nd sister was born 6 years and one week after me.

My dad was a mechanic who worked long hours but who was also committed to his wife and to his children. I adored my dad and one of my fondest memories was walking up the street, hand in his hand, talking with him about my future.

Mum was a stay-at-home mum who was always there for us especially when we got home from school. We attended school daily and had to be on our death beds to get a day off. Mum loved dad and together they created a safe and happy environment for us. Their commitment to God and then to church was a strong foundation for all of us and now that we are all grown up with children of our own, we are all still applying those principles/commitments in our own homes.

I have a lot of memories of "waiting" for something to happen. When we were moving house, I remember sitting out in the playground, next to the milk bottles, waiting to be picked up to go to our new home. Of course, these days I would have been kept in the classroom and signed out but in those days, things were a little different.... safer.

Early on at my "new" school, I was nearly 6 and told mum that I could walk home by myself. I knew the way and my mum believed me. I crossed the wrong road and the lollipop lady tried to tell me I was going the wrong way but I insisted this was the right way. I kept walking and walking until I admitted to myself that I was lost and sat down on a small brick fence and waited.

A lady came past and tried to ask me who I was and where I was going but, aware of "stranger danger" I didn't say anything. She went home and got her own children and then I trusted her. She called mum and then dropped me off at home. My poor mother was heavily pregnant with her sixth child.

As I sit here and think about those times they do, even now, reflect part of who and why I am who I am. I am willing to wait for someone I love but am also willing to find my own way home. I know what is right and what is wrong but will sometimes have to try it out for myself and come to my own conclusions despite your advice. I keep walking until finally I am forced to stop and wait for someone to help me. I was quite a trusting child, if independent. But then again, in a family of 6 children - and being the middle child, independence was probably one of those things that had to happen.