I
solved the lack of experience in education problem when I heard about, and
successfully gained admittance to, a program in Kingston that allowed me to
volunteer at Loyalist Collegiate (LCVI) as Jr Football and Sr Basketball coach.
It was an interesting year that resulted in some friendships that have lasted
through the years, but the details are a little sketchy because I was working at the PG which required a lot of late nights and my sleep-deprived brain just
didn’t latch onto a lot of memories.
This post is about Teacher’s College and
not LCVI so enough about my memory issues so I'll keep going. I was able, with
a little help from an old friend of my father’s, to gain admittance to York
University’s TC program and ended up at their satellite campus in Newmarket,
being held at the old Town Hall. Being relatively young, I charged ahead
without a lot of thought dedicated to the details. I accepted, paid and then
thought, “I need a place to live!” Joyce and I were blissfully living in sin at
the time and she thankfully agreed to make the move. I hopped in the truck one
day, drove to Newmarket and found out quickly that (a) there weren’t a ton of
places in there to rent and (b) we couldn’t afford the ones I found. As a
fluke, I saw an ad for a place in Holland Landing … Where the heck is Holland
Landing? It would turn out to be a small community north of Newmarket and the
apartment was the bottom of a gargantuan home in a pricey subdivision that was
recently built there. The owner, as it turned out, was the developer of the
subdivision and the apartment was HUGE for not a lot of money. SOLD! Now to
convince Joyce! Thankfully, I had been good enough of a partner that she trusted
me sufficiently to agree.
SIDENOTE: The owner was an interesting
fellow who was bespectacled tinkerer, and who’s glasses kept sliding off his face.
He solved the problem by creating these soft rubber things that slid onto the
arms of the glasses. He called them “Grabbers” and gave me some to try … I
still have them! Well, if developing a subdivision didn’t line his pockets
enough, selling 3 million Grabbers (not a typo) to the military didn’t hurt
either. He was definitely an interesting dude!
Although I didn't consider myself "old", I
quickly found out that I was older than most of the teacher candidates, so a
group of us formed a merry band of Old Farts and set about dealing with the
youngsters. We had a lead instructor that was definitely primary focused as she
confessed that she and her hubby’s favourite activity was to lie in bed and
read, out loud, to each other. Let’s just say that my varsity athlete
experience prepared me a little differently, resulting in a look of incredulous
wonderment becoming permanently etched on my face.
In the end, the Old Farts survived
and the decisions about teaching placements rolled around. As it turned out,
this satellite campus was closely linked with the York Region Catholic DSB so
my placement was at one of their elementary schools called St Elizabeth Seaton
in a Gr 6 classroom. Although religion was present in my childhood home, it was
not a major component, and I was raised United since my father was raised Catholic
and my mother was raised Anglican. They figured it was a good compromise. I
had been the dutiful son who attended Sunday School up to, and no further, than
the time I was permitted to make the choice on whether or not to attend. I had
stuff to do on Sunday! Teaching was easy but teaching religion, especially Catholic
religion? Well, that was harder. I had to get some help. I found that help in
the form of Father Stephen at St Christopher’s in Newmarket. Through the
school, I approached Father Stephen about adult catechism, and he was most
gracious in accepting my sad case, once I explained what was going on. I admit
that I started out with getting some help to teach plus getting my papal
reference in case I wanted to stay with the Catholic Board, but I was surprised
to find that my interactions with Father Stephen were creating a sense of
belonging. I should point out that Father Stephen thought it best that we do
the catechism one on one … Not sure why since it was usually done as a group,
but I didn’t complain because it meant that I met him at the rectory every Tuesday
and we generally just chatted about the history of Catholicism, other sects
that split off and what place religion would play in my life. I would learn
that Father Stephen was a unicorn … He was one of, if not only, married priests
with children. His story was that he was raised Jesuit and at some time in his
early adult life, left for the Anglican church where he married and had kids. A
change of heart resulted in a return to the Jesuits and, somehow with his family
in tow, he became the Father with a wife and kids. Through it all, it meant that I
could teach my students about religious topics like the Beatitudes with some
sense of competency. In the end, as you already know, I decided on the Simcoe
County DSB which, of course, was not Catholic. I will be forever grateful to
Father Stephen for helping!
When it was all said and done, I
lived up to the old saying my father used to share. He would often preach to
his four boys that the key to anything worthwhile was not to be number one
(although that was tolerated in athletics … Ha Ha) but to finish what you
start. He would say, “You know what they call the student who graduates last in
his med class? Doctor!” I was that through and through … I received my teaching
certificate standing firmly in the bottom third of my class. Any who cares? I
was hired the next month and the beginning of 29 years of education bliss began.
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