Dear journal,
One of the worst days of my life was receiving a nonrenewal letter during my third year of teaching. It was 2010, and the recession had finally hit Southwest Missouri. The alternative middle school program where I taught was being eliminated, and I was not offered another position. I was devastated.
When I entered the profession, I thought teaching would be about sharing my passion for history and geography. But teaching middle school transformed me. Those students—my very first—taught me lessons no degree program could. They showed me that teaching is less about content and more about connection. In them, I discovered parts of myself I hadn’t expected: more depth, more curiosity, more compassion, and more love than I thought I possessed. Losing that job was not just a career setback; it felt like losing part of myself.
For months, I scrambled. I applied everywhere, followed leads, even began preparing a Peace Corps application. Out of more than a hundred applications, I received one interview—Joplin High School, in July of 2010. I was offered the job, and though it felt strange to remain in Joplin after such a personal blow, I tried to move forward with the quiet hope that one day I might return to North Middle School and finish my career where it began.
I applied several times over the years for positions at North, but never even got an interview. The rejection hurt. It left me feeling unwanted, even as I poured myself into new opportunities. Eventually, through my work supporting the virtual school, I sought out additional certifications, many at the middle school level. What I didn’t realize until recently was that this work quietly brought me back to the place I longed for.
Through state reporting, my teaching assignments were spread across multiple buildings. On paper, I was not just a teacher at Joplin High School, but also at Franklin Tech, South Middle, East Middle, and—most unexpectedly—North Middle. Without ever planning it, I had made it home.
When I learned this, an unexpected sense of peace washed over me. Sixteen years had passed since I last taught in that building. The school has been completely remodeled, and my old classroom is now just a closet. Yet somehow, the realization that I am once again connected to North Middle School gave me the closure I didn’t even know I was seeking.
Sometimes fate doesn’t take us back the way we imagine. Instead, it gives us something quieter but just as profound: the knowledge that we are, at last, where we were meant to be.
Always,
Dave