The Interview

On a hot day in July, 1997, I headed down to Livingston, California, where I had an interview for a teaching position. As I walked toward the district office, where the interview was to take place, another candidate for the job joined me. He asked, "Are you here for an interview?" I replied that yes, I was, and then he said, "Are ya nervous?" I shrugged and told him that no, I wasn't nervous. (I had discovered a long time ago that nervousness doesn't do me any good). The man went to the bathroom, or somewhere, I didn't know where, and then I was called in for my interview. To my surprise, I walked in to a panel of interviewers, and this man was among them. I had just assumed he was another candidate for the job, but here he was, sitting on the other side of the table with the rest of the interviewers.

I don't recall much about the interview...except that I was surprised that, since it was an interview for a bilingual job, they only asked me one question in Spanish. I was secretly hoping they'd decide I wasn't fluent enough and give me an English only class. But with only one simple question, it was hard to stumble over words, and they somehow decided I was perfectly qualified to teach bilingual. (Actually, it ended up being a primary language class, where most of the instruction was done in Spanish, but English was one of the subjects taught. It was the best strategy in the world, and the best experience of my professional life). Anyway, I was called back for a second interview, and hired for the position. While I was relieved to have a job, I was terrified to be a first time teacher of bilingual education.

A few months later I found out that Al Silviera (the man who asked me if I was nervous) was a neighbor to Roger Liston, my former high school seminary teacher. Brother Liston told me that Al said he knew he wanted to hire me the minute I said I wasn't nervous. After that, in his opinion, the interview was just a formality. (Boy, was I glad I answered that question right)!

I like to tell that story sometimes when I can tell someone is having a tough time dealing with being nervous. Just remember, no matter who it is who is looking or passing their judgment on your performance, they are just people, like you and me. They may hold your future in their hands, but don't let it scare you. If you master your nerves, you will perform better and give a truer representation of yourself and your abilities.

Quincy Road

During my college years, my parents bought a house at 1012 S. Quincy Rd., kind of out in the country, on a 1/3 acre lot. I lived there after college, during my first year of teaching, while I saved up to move out on my own. The front door opened into an entryway, probably the biggest entryway we'd ever had. There was a wood stove in the entryway, just at the beginning of the living room. The whole living room was to the left of the entryway, and the kitchen was straight ahead. Through the living room, more to the left, there was a bedroom on the left, a bedroom straight ahead, and a bathroom  on the right. The kitchen, (directly across from the entryway, if you remember), was fairly small. There was a small space for a table on the right. On the left there was a "peninsula" counter, the stove and fridge, very minimal counter space. Across from the stove was the sink, and some more cupboards and counter space. Continuing back through the kitchen was a hallway. On the right was a door leading to the garage, which had been turned into a bedroom (probably not to code, ha ha!) Behind that bedroom was where the laundry was. There was another bedroom to the left, across from that door to the garage. This was my parents' room. The next door on the left opened to a half bathroom. On the right wall of the hallway was a big pantry. Further down the hall there was a big family room, which was also an add on. From the family room, there was a door that led to the back yard. Out in the back yard there was a screen room attached to the back of the house, and then there was also a separate building in the back, which was used as a bedroom on several different occasions.

Here are a few random pictures taken inside this house. This first on is Dawn, talking on the phone. The right side of the picture is a column that separates the entry way from the living room. A tiny bit more to the right and you would see the wood stove, and then a little bit after that the front door. The kitchen table is behind that half wall that is behind Dawn.

From this couch where my dad is sitting, he is facing the window wall in the above picture. That door behind him is the bathroom. Facing the bathroom door is a door leading to the bedroom in the next picture, and at the end of that short little hallway is another door to another bedroom.

This bedroom is across the hall from the bathroom, and was my bedroom during the year that I lived there, my first year teaching school. 

Here we have Sam and Mark in the very back of the house, in the family room. 

This is Dawn and Shannon in the garage-made-bedroom.