Where Were You Happy?

I have to start this blog post off with a huge shout-out to my friends and family. The support they have shown in the last six months, and especially in the last few weeks and days, has been a gift I will always treasure. They have listened to me sob on the phone, they have read pages-long emails filled with anger and angst, and have offered words of support ranging from, "Well, I think you're awesome" to "GO MEG! Glad to see you sticking up for yourself!!"

My cup runneth over.

And they offer advice. Heather, in particular, is good at this (even though sometimes I get a little pissy and "I KNOW!!" on her--but right now, career change advice is appreciated and welcomed. Love you, girl!).

One thing from one of her recent emails is sticking in my head today. She asked me, "Where were you happiest?" She suggested I look back over my life and think about what about that time made me happy, and why I would want to go back to something like it.

I don't count anything before 2001--I graduated from Chico in 2001, so before that, my life was a rather idyllic procession of band trips, choir concerts, college courses, and a huge lack of real responsibility. I decided to reflect only on my true adult life--that is, life after the music degree was obtained and the teaching credential finished (in 2002). Where was I happiest?

I thought, "Oh, that's easy! Elverta!" I loved that job. It was K-8 classroom music and 6-8 band. My bosses were wonderful and so supportive. My colleagues were a satisfied, close-knit group who welcomed me into the fold with open arms. I went to Rome with a group of them in my first Spring Break as a Real Teacher, and we had a marvelous time. I was involved in a jazz choir at a local community college, and it was there I met Heather. Life was good.

I would probably have stayed for a long time, but...yes, there's a "but." The job was a 50% contract, meaning I worked three hours a day instead of six, and I made about $17,000 a year instead of $34,000. In order to maintain this, I had to live with Mom and Dad. Don't get me wrong, I adore my parents and will happily spend the whole of my two-week Christmas Break hanging out at their house, but living with them as a grown-up is a different story. I missed having my own place, more space to myself, and all that comes with it.

So heh. Maybe I don't really want to go back to that time of my life.

In England I was both incredibly happy (beautiful Burnham, great friends, London at my fingertips) and incredibly unhappy (difficult school, terrible pay for "un-trained" teachers from the U.S.A., and a whole crazy new curriculum to learn). Much as I miss England and long to go back as soon as possible for a visit, I can't go back. That adventure is finished, and unless I marry Richard from Keane a British man, I'm not moving back there. On my own, it's just not practical.

Washington is a blip on the radar screen. It hardly counts. It was an intermission in my life, in which I regrouped from my international adventure and spent some time realizing, "Oh my God, I really, really, REALLY can't live with Mom and Dad anymore!"

Antioch was, plain and simple, never a great fit. I tried, I really tried. But I was unhappy and miserable and eating my weight in Kraft Mac and Cheese. High school wasn't my thing, and at least I can say I tried.

Now I'm in Stockton, and we all know that I'm going through a difficult situation this month...but tonight I had an epiphany.

I was sitting in Chorale rehearsal and I thought, "This is where I'm happy."

Stockton. This is where I'm happy.

Stockton, California made Forbes magazine's list of most miserable American cities. It placed second. Second!

And, contrary little fool that I sometimes am, this is where I'm happy. It is Stockton where I have Chorale--a group of amazing people who pray for sick cats, offer hugs when jobs are lost, and sing like angels.

It is Stockton where I have my neighborhood gym, where G. the Meanie fist-bumped me today because I lost three pounds this week, then bragged to the gym manager, who high-fived me. Where I have made forty--yes, forty!--pounds melt off my body through hard work, dedication, and a lot of support.

It is Stockton where I have Animal Friends Connection--a group of people who paid me the ultimate compliment in telling me they're glad I took one of their kittens, because it is obvious to them that I adore my little dude. They trust me with a key to the cages at PetCo, and trust that I will treat their charges with utmost care and gentleness.

It is Stockton where I started feeling like a good teacher again. Even with someone telling me I'm not a good teacher, I'm still able to think, "No, she's wrong." It is Stockton that helped me realize, for the first time in a good three or four years, that I like teaching. Even though there are parts that make me crazy, overall, I like what I do.

I am happy here. Even with work drama and noisy neighbors (what have they got upstairs, a pet buffalo?!) and Forbes magazine telling me I should be miserable...I am happy here. That's the bottom line.

So, I lost my job. But I haven't lost my fight, and I'm going to fight like hell to stay here.