Two Hours A Week

I've kept a private journal for years and I'm pulling this entry out because I think it belongs somewhere other people can see it. For most of my adult life I assumed teaching wasn't for me. Then I spent a summer tutoring my nephew in Baton Rouge, and one evening driving home from a session I felt something settle over me with the weight of an instruction, not a suggestion, telling me this was the work I was meant for. I've never felt directed like that before. I start my certification program in the fall, thirty-four years old, following what I can only call being called rather than choosing.