Lightbulb Moments
“Dad?” I asked, again.
No answer.
“Mr. Monahan, Kate has a question,” Todd said, chuckling.
Dad turned around from the board, where he was working a trigonometry problem, with surprise running across his face.
“I’m sorry, Kate. What’s up?” he asked, as the rest of the class burst into laughter.
And so went my tenth-grade math class. My teacher father created tests while I was at volleyball practice; he graded them while I worked at a flower shop. Sometimes he’d hear me in class – but only if I used “Mr. Monahan” (which neither of us liked that much) instead of “Dad”.
I beamed when my senior class selected my father as our class advisor.
Choosing a career
As much I loved my dad and knew firsthand what a brilliant educator he was, when it came time for university, I wanted nothing to do with the education field. I saw how hard my father worked throughout my childhood – teaching high school during the day, college at night, and tutoring on the weekends – to make sure we had enough money. I couldn’t understand how he had the patience to explain a concept one way to me; another way to Todd; and a third way to Ryoko. And in doing so, somehow ensuring that we all had our ‘lightbulb moments’ in that trig class. I wanted something different for my life.
I decided on a financial career, and it took me from the U.S. to Canada.
Front of the class
And now? I’m a teacher – and canoe guide. My career change began with a job leading trips and providing office support for canoe guiding companies, and crystallized when a college position opened up.
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My work as a professor melds my business and outdoor skills: I teach business courses to college students who are training to become adventure guides. I love it. I love connecting my real-life stories to concepts we discuss in class. I love hearing what my students dream up for their business plans. I love finding out that, five years after someone has graduated, my class impacted their work.
So, to my dad and all the other phenomenal teachers I’ve had over the years: thank you. I finally get why you do it. And I know you were waiting for me to get there on my own.
