I would say the average person completes their National
Boards in one school year. That’s roughly 8-9 months. I crunched my National
Boards into about 3.5-4 months. I did most of the writing in TWO months.
Imagine all of that concentrated stress and anxiety funneled into two months. I
was teaching full time, writing what felt like a million IEPs (how were they
all due in April and May???), attending weekly, two-hour meetings on BYU campus
for my summer practicum job, applying for jobs in another state, and somehow
video recording my classes, writing paper after paper for my National Board
Certification and consuming large amounts of sour cream and onion chips with
cottage cheese, plenty of Diet Coke, and fresh cookie dough made by the one and
only Kathy R (seriously though – her cookie dough could stop wars and institute
world peace – it’s that good). Those were delicious, but difficult days.
I would set up camp in my living room with a foldable craft
table and all of the PDF instructions laid out. The entire process is completed
electronically. You could actually download all of the instructions right now
if you wanted to. The instructions are very detailed, but also extremely broad
and hard to interpret. NBTC applies to such a vast array of educators and
content areas that you can only be given a broad sense of instructions. The
execution of said instructions is up to you.
*Now would also be a good time to sing praises to my
roommate for dealing with my intense usage of the living room. She was a real
champ and always encouraged me.*
The Breaking Point
I went on a lot of walks around my neighborhood during April
and May. When I felt like I just couldn’t handle one more NBTC pdf file of
instructions that seemed everything but user-friendly or the sitting down
position after typing hundreds of words became too stagnant and my body started
cramping up, I knew it was time to get outside. I would put headphones in, listen
to Muse on repeat, and walk and walk. There were some tender mercy moments
during those walks and I’m grateful for a world with clouds, skies, and
beautiful sunsets.
Those were also sentimental moments (with a few tears shed) because I knew that my time in Provo was coming to an end. My opportunities to enjoy neighborhood walks on the mountainside were soon to be over. I hadn’t yet gone public about my upcoming move, so my sentimental moments often had to be choked down and endured silently.
I found myself wondering why in the world the prompt to get my National Board Certification came NOW? I couldn’t even find a job as an educator. Was I going to put all of this time and effort into a certification for a job I might not even have in the future? I was going to leave my dear friends and family in a few short months and instead of cherishing those last days of teaching, I was crying in my classroom during my prep, pulling late nights, and closeting myself in my living room to write yet another piece of a component. I was miserable. Truly miserable.
Still, the hours and hours spent writing, reflecting,
editing, reflecting and revising again became the norm. The number of times I
broke down in uncontrollable sobs and went to my room, fell on my knees, and
pled with God to give me understanding and endurance increased steadily over
those two months. This felt like the hardest academic task I had ever faced
(truly – EVER – in my entire academic career) and I didn’t think I was going to
make it. I had never felt such inexplicit incapability. The refiner’s fire is a
true adage in this case. I remember feeling like I was peeling back layers of
myself and discovering an inept, mediocre, insignificant teacher who had zero
skills and insight into her own vocation and passion. It was a bizarre time in
my life. I realize that those are crazy thoughts, but I can’t quite impress on
you the level of despair I felt completing this certification. It was almost as
if this certification was more than a certification for me – it was an experiment
in determining my breaking point – and my limits were being tested.
The Finish Line
I had unbelievably understanding administration and
co-workers who filled in for my slack when I took many a day off to write my
life away or had to do one more video recording, student pull out and
interview, PLC interrogation, etc. There were empathetic, listening ears and
comforting words during the many many hours of despairing venting
sessions and I’m grateful to each and every one of you that listened to me and
encouraged me during such a difficult time.
Components 2-4 needed to be submitted by Wednesday, May 17
at 11:00 pm MST. Go figure I had my two-hour practicum meeting on campus that
day and I felt nauseous during the entire meeting. I didn’t want to be there.
About thirty minutes before the class started, I discovered that the electronic
submission process wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I called the NBTC
support line and the man on the phone confirmed my worst fears. I thought I
could just submit my word documents online, but it turned out that I had to put
all the separate word documents into one large pdf file. Some components had 10
different documents. You have to have certain software and/or access to
scanners in order to create such pdf files. At that point in the day, on the
LAST DAY, I wasn’t actually done writing all of the pieces for Component 4. Either
I could spend my time creating these pdf files for submission, or I could write
the rest of the pieces for Component 4. I had to make a choice, but there was
no foreseeable way I could actually pull this off. I paid all that money and
spent all of those hours, but I wouldn’t even get to submit every component.
There was no way I was going get this certification this round.
I was practically in tears when I walked into that room in
the McKay Building to “mentor” my BYU teacher candidates. I was trying to text
my friend Kathy while also being “professional” and hold back the bile that was
building up.
I fled the room and headed to the Wilkinson Center as soon
as class was over and met my two friends Julia and Kathy for dinner. (A girl
needs fuel before she continues to walk the plank.) My angel friend Kathy told
me she owned a scanner at her house and if I emailed her all of the documents,
she would scan them and create the pdf files for me. TRULY, God sent me an
angel that day and she came in the form of my dear co-worker and cherished
friend. After a quick dinner, I returned to the library and continued to write
while I would email Kathy my word documents. She was fighting her own scanning
battles as things would go in the wrong way, upside down, etc. She miraculously
scanned and created my three pdf files. It was a miracle. Around 9:45 pm I
realized that I couldn’t submit my videos online because they too needed to be submitted
in a different, more condensed format, which required a specific software.
At this point in the evening, Kathy walked over to the
Harold B Lee Library, brought me cookies, and converted my two videos into the
acceptable format while I reviewed my last reflection paper one more time. It
was 10:45 pm when I had finally submitted the last of the components. We walked
out of that library in a daze. I was free. Honestly, we were both free. Kathy
helped me more than I can convey. She spent hours helping me brainstorm,
covering during my absences (she was one of my co-teachers), providing dinners,
snacks, and general consolation. She was my rock during that certification and
I will never forget what she did for me.
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| Celebrating New Year's Eve with a round of Sparkling Cider. Little did we know what was in our future during 2017! |
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