I'm on leave, you might say. We have a week long break in our teaching regimen, so I took the opportunity to visit some dear friends in Boston for a birthday bash and inner city duck hunt. Don't worry, no ducks were harmed in the writing of this blog.
I write to you now from my parents' house, tucked away in the rolling hills of central Pennsylvania. And as I've had some time, I'm thinking over the last two months on the 'farm' in Connecticut, wondering what it all means.
Very soon, it seems, I will have a paper (or electronic statement) that certifies my ability to teach a riding lesson to people who are differently abled, and never have I felt so inept.
The longer I study, it seems, the more I feel I don't know. Not to mention, of course, that the kind of riding I am expected to teach has not been a regular part of my life for nearly 20 years--yes, I had to stop and calculate that. Stirrups, reins? I've spent the better part of 5 years trying to get away from those things. If you are thoroughly confused at this point, please refer to this post.
I feel like I'm being expected to fit into a mold that I just don't fit. And lately in my life, if you haven't noticed, I've been of the mindset to dash molds to the ground like dishes at a raucous Greek party.
I came in thinking I wanted to be a therapeutic riding instructor, and now I'm not sure if I want to be physical therapist, personal trainer, or human movement specialist. What?!
So, I've had to ask myself, why am I here? Why did I come to this program in the first place. I needed certification to work in the field--But somehow along the way I got excited about learning.
So, how does a person make her way through life, learning from others without losing herself, her personal mission and values, in her education? Oh, education, you sneaky devil, how many a pure mind have you confused.
Wait a second, isn't this blog about a girl with one arm and disability?...is probably what you are asking yourself at this point. Excuse me while I reseal Pandora's Box.
Now, about those ducks...
I suppose it's easy enough to say 'Just be yourself'...it's the process of finding out who that is that takes time and not a little bit of aggravation.
OneArmGirl
Very soon, it seems, I will have a paper (or electronic statement) that certifies my ability to teach a riding lesson to people who are differently abled, and never have I felt so inept.
The longer I study, it seems, the more I feel I don't know. Not to mention, of course, that the kind of riding I am expected to teach has not been a regular part of my life for nearly 20 years--yes, I had to stop and calculate that. Stirrups, reins? I've spent the better part of 5 years trying to get away from those things. If you are thoroughly confused at this point, please refer to this post.
I feel like I'm being expected to fit into a mold that I just don't fit. And lately in my life, if you haven't noticed, I've been of the mindset to dash molds to the ground like dishes at a raucous Greek party.
I came in thinking I wanted to be a therapeutic riding instructor, and now I'm not sure if I want to be physical therapist, personal trainer, or human movement specialist. What?!
So, how does a person make her way through life, learning from others without losing herself, her personal mission and values, in her education? Oh, education, you sneaky devil, how many a pure mind have you confused.
Wait a second, isn't this blog about a girl with one arm and disability?...is probably what you are asking yourself at this point. Excuse me while I reseal Pandora's Box.
Now, about those ducks...
I suppose it's easy enough to say 'Just be yourself'...it's the process of finding out who that is that takes time and not a little bit of aggravation.
OneArmGirl
Direction will come.
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