Way, WAY too much about me...

I'm thinking about teaching for the Institute of Reading Development this summer.  I went to their website to put in my application and, little did I know that they were going to ask for a dissertation on my entire life and times.  Since it took me a good part of the day to write the answers to the following five questions, I have nothing left for a new blog.  For better or worse, I share their questions and my answers with you:

Please describe yourself as a reader and how you came to be one.


The beginning of my reading journey was less than auspicious. As it turned out, I much preferred the sound of my mother's voice over doing the work it would take to learn to read myself. My mother, concerned that I still didn't know how to read well into the first grade, asked my teacher why, and her response was "I don't have time to teach your daughter to read! I have a whole classroom to worry about!" My mother realized that if her daughter was going to grow up literate it was going to have to be entirely from her doing. So, she took me to the library and proceeded to check out twenty books. I still remember the sight of that stack of books sitting on the checkout table. To say I was intimidated would be an understatement. My mother turned out to be quite the task master. I was required to read several books per day, and she absolutely refused to read to me anymore. Instead, I had to read to her every night. It was positively heartbreaking at first. However, after about a week or so I started to get the hang of it and after another week the beauty of what I was doing suddenly hit me. I realized that I was no longer at the mercy of my mother's schedule. She had given me the keys to the kingdom so that I could read wherever and whenever I wished. And, read I did. Every chance I got I was curled up somewhere in our house reading. To both my mother and my brother's great dismay, I graduated very quickly from children's books to stealing my brother's sci-fi books from his bookshelf. Since that time, I could not begin to guess how many books I have read. Even my fiancé, who has his B.A. in English, is often torn between laughter and shock at the rate that I go through books. The ability to read has turned out to be the greatest gift of my life.

Please tell us about books or authors that have been particularly meaningful to you.

Oh, where to begin? One of the first books that absolutely blew my (too young) mind was "Logan's Run" by William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson. Another one was "House of Stairs" by William Sleator. "Old Yeller" by Fred Gipson and Steven Polson broke my heart in a way that I have never forgotten. In my early teens I discovered Stephen King. I read every book of his I could get my hands on, most of them multiple times. Being an animal lover, I was a fan of Jack London. Through school I learned to love classics from the likes of T.S. Eliot, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Frost and Samuel Clemens. As a burgeoning young woman, I deeply admired Emily Dickinson. In my adult life, I have enjoyed the richly beautiful yet darkly painful world depicted by Pat Conroy in "The Prince of Tides". I have loved Shakespeare, both on the page as well as on the stage. Books like "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle: A Novel", by David Wroblewski, with its subtle illusions to Hamlet, keep me up late at night. I read "The Road" in a few hours and was moved to tears several times by its opaque and hellish dystopia. I have also loved works by Salinger, Orwell, Steinbeck, Ludlum, Tennessee Williams, Maguire, and even the Queen of her own Universe, J.K. Rowling. I so loved J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" that I even read "The Silmarillion" cover to cover, which is roughly akin to slavishly reading the Bible's series of begets from beginning to end. I have my guilty pleasure in the books by Diana Gabaldon. Finally, my most beloved and favorite author of all is, without question, Anne Rice. Her gorgeous prose has turned me on my head countless times, and I always look forward to every page of her books. I could go on as there are 5 bookshelves in my apartment that are positively stuffed with books. So much so, that my fiancé has all but forbidden me to bring in anymore without getting rid of some first. However, as I have told him, that is like asking me to do a “Sophie’s Choice”. He just shakes his head and walks away.

Why are you applying to teach for the Institute this summer?

I really loved your ad, and your mission statement inspired me. You have helped me to remember my own history, and how close I came to being shut out of something that is so much a part of everything I am. It is as important to who I am as the DNA strand that dictated green for the color of my eyes. My mother effectively changed my life. I feel that had I never become as enamoured of reading as I am, I wouldn't be as well-rounded, I wouldn't have had the same level of success, my world view would have been seriously limited and I wouldn't be nearly as happy. If I could do the same for others, if I could impart my love of reading and give even one other person the beautiful gift that I was given, it would be an enormous honor and privilege.

What influences and experiences have shaped your desire to teach? What role, if any, do you see teaching playing in your future?

I have had so many teachers who have deeply inspired me. First: my mother, as I have previously mentioned. Next was my 2nd grade teacher, named Mrs. Keller. I loved that woman so much that I went back to visit her well into my high school years. She was one of the first people in my life that accepted me for who I was; quirks and all. I was a strange little girl in those days. I insisted on only wearing dresses to school, yet my best friends were all boys and we spent our recesses together crawling through the dirt and mud trying to find evidence of Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. It was like an elementary school version of The X-Files. My mother was so worried about this behavior that she asked Mrs. Keller if she would try and put a stop to it. "No", she replied, "It's a phase, and the best thing to do is to let her grow out of it. She'll make friends with the other girls, give her time". Mrs. Fast was my middle school theater teacher. She wasn't terribly inspiring, but she did get out of my way and allow me to create some indelible characters. Her class began a life-long love affair with the theater. Mrs. Gloria Nixon-John was technically my high school poetry teacher, but she was also so much more. A little background - my brother was a genius; his IQ having been tested in the 150's or so. He was 7 years older than I. For my entire young life everyone compared me to him...teachers, relatives...everyone tried to figure out why he was so brilliant and I seemingly wasn't. Mrs. Nixon-John had taught both my brother and I, and she was the first person in my life who reassured me that I was as smart, and in some ways smarter, than my brother. I am grateful to this day for the shot of confidence she gave me, helping me to realize that the only thing that had been stopping me was my own lack of self-belief. Other amazing teachers include Mr. Rick Bodick (high school theater), a high school algebra teacher (I cannot remember his name but he was the first math teacher to make it all make sense), Ms. Karen Sheridan (college theater), Ms. Susan Barrett (college theater), a sociology teacher that I had in college who BLEW my mind, but I cannot remember his name, and Mr. Stephen Black (acting teacher). I thank everyone named above for affecting me, changing me and making me who I am today. As for where I see teaching playing in my future, I am hoping that this could be the beginning of a new career. I have dreamt many times of going back to school to get my teaching degree. I would love to teach English, Theater/Acting and American Government and hopefully inspire a number of students in the same way that I was inspired.

Please describe your work ethic, and the influences that have shaped it.

I owe my work ethic entirely to my father. He was born the oldest of eleven children in a very rural area of Virginia. My grandfather was both a drunk and a gambler, so my father had to grow up far sooner than any child should. At the age of nine years old he had to quit school and go to work. By the age of eleven, believe it or not, he was driving dump trucks hauling coal over crude roads built into the sides of the Virginia Mountains. At fifteen, he had been hearing about the sorts of amazing jobs, pay and benefits a young man could get at the car companies up in Michigan. He told his father, and the entire family, that if he was going to continue to support them, then that is where they must go. At that time, Ford Motor Company required that its employees be at least 18 years of age to work for them, so my father talked one of his uncles into lying for him so that he could start 2 years early. Aside from his required tour of duty in the army, my father worked for Ford for forty-eight continuous years. He wasn't just a union man, biding his time riding the clock, either. He constantly volunteered to take classes in whatever the new auto-line technology was so that he could take care of any problem that came up. In addition, for the first eighteen years of my parent's marriage, he also worked a second job to make sure he could make ends meet for the four of us, and so that my mother could stay home with my brother and I while we were young. Watching this man, this strong and silent pillar of our family, formed every aspect of my own work ethic. I work extremely hard, I am very loyal, and I am incredibly passionate about every assignment and task that I am given. I cannot just "punch out", as it isn't in my nature to do so. I am always thinking of new ideas, a more efficient course of action, and ways to inspire those who work under me.


~Jenn