Living in a mid-size town, just north of the largest city in the state, where the streets were tree-lined and manicured and the sound of Latin music filled the air on Saturday mornings, I lived a quiet and simple life with my roommate and best first, who also happened to be my stepsister, Yashica. A word you will never hear me utter again. My name, Tiffany Baskerville, I was a 34-year old public school science teacher, who wore many hats at my local church. My sister, Yashica Horn, a former stage performer and childcare provider.

My life followed a pretty predictable path up to this point. I woke up every morning, marching to beat of the drum of adulthood. Greet my sister, bathe and groom myself, eat breakfast, and off to work. I would jump into my Japenese made vehicle, because after all, every young lady needs a dependable vehicle for the eight minute drive to work.

Sussex Avenue School was the fifth school I worked in and it was a typical inner-city school filled with a diverse group of dedicated educators, vibrant and energetic students, all of whom had hopes and dreams for their future, and parents who were concerned about the future of their neighborhood school.  The well-built brick structure, housed the potential of recently redistributed teachers and students who needed to adjust to receiving a new principal and an entirely new teaching staff.

My classroom, like all others I taught in was my home away from home. Finally, I had a classroom with an area that housed my supplies and teaching tools. Microscopes, beakers, and lab coats lined the open-faced closet and textbooks filled the back cabinets. Black-top tables and built in floor sockets made labwork pretty easy to accomplish. North-facing windows made it pretty easy to forget the lack of shades on the window, but hey, you can not win them all. To me, teaching was not just a job but a calling, one I chose to answer as an undergraduate student when it became obvious that I was grossly underprepared to to pursue a degree in biology, premed track. Thus, I changed my major to general biology and decided to teach middle school science, in an effort to provide the depth of education for a young person who may have the same desire I did, once upon a time.

My days were often long and exhausting. While I would love to say it was from preparing engaging lessons, though provoking lab experiments, and prolific questions generaged by my students, it wasn’t. The days were exhausting because I spent much of the day correcting negative behavior, foul language, and championing the importance of education. The typical day was a far cry from what I once envisioned as an undergraduate student.

At the time I was single and had no children of my own, so I spent a significant amount of time compelling my students to shift their perspective on education because at the time, many of them viewed school as a chore and not as a way to positively impact their future selves. While I would have enjoyed attending their sports events and supporting extra curricular activities, I shied away from that due to the evergrowing negative and toxic assault on the character and intent of educators and the ease at which one wrong allegation could alter the trajectory of my career. I simply did not think it was worth the risk.

Although my commitment to work and graduate studies consumed much of my time, my personal life served as a deep source of jovial contentment. While friends and colleagues were near, I rarely socialized for the purposes of pursuing a romantic relationship. While my family lived in another state, I maintained regular contact and saw them weekly at church. My two bedroom, first floor apartment in a two family house was a quaint and calming space. The cucumber and pale yellow colored walls wreaked of peace and serenity and the soft streaming sound of the water in the fish tank toped off the affect my sister was looking for in our home. 

The pursuit of a master’s degrees was prompted by the much need boost in salary. The school district I worked for neglected to reach a mutually beneficial contract with the teachers union and thus our salaries were frozen for five years. I can go on about my desire to deepen my understanding of educational pedagogy but why lie. I was tired of working hard with no pay raise in site, so I went back to school to attain an additional degree because that translated into a pay increase once I was done and a plethora of job opportunities if I decided to leave the classroom.  

As a teacher by day and student by night, the balance was a challenge, honestly I work well under self imposed pressure. I spent the weekends consumed with my responsibilities for my job, writing papers and responding to class posts, along with preparing for Sunday school and church on Sunday. The hamster wheel of my life spun on all while I continued to inspire my students to reach for the goals. 

The last year of the master’s program was filled with excitement as graduation loomed in the not so distant future. All that stood in the way now the completion of the internship. The state I live in requires those seeking the principal certification to pass a certification test. I am thankful because the university I attended required us to register for the exam before we entered our last semester. At the time I appreciate that but hind-sight is 20/20 and it was the best thing they did for us. 

Up until this point, I did not see myself as a school leader nor was I interested in the work of the principal. However, with each assigned task by my vice principal, a slight glimmer of hope and dare I say desire flickered in my minds eye. My principal and vice principal were instrumental in the completion of the 1500 hr internship. Each task allowed me to gain a deeper understanding of things like the school budget and the importance of the attendance and its affect on the school budget.