I get asked this a lot, so I guess now's as good a time as any to write about it.

"How'd you end up on the Reservation?"

When I returned from being in the Peace Corps, I started looking for a job as a teacher. I wanted high school, if I could get it, but all I could find were elementary and middle school jobs. My first position after I returned was as a substitute, and that was okay, but I wanted something more steady. So the fall after I returned I did get hired--to teach language arts and social studies to 6th grade students. The following year I got many of the same students back when I moved from teaching 6th to teaching 7th. And that was a very difficult year because I had trouble with my discipline in my classroom.

You see, I was (and in many ways still am) under the impression that a child should be more than happy to follow the rules because it makes learning more fun. Boy, did I get disillusioned! Anyway, after my second year of teaching, I was given the choice to either resign or be fired. I chose the resignation.

After that, I went back to being a sub. I worked quite a bit for the local Catholic private schools, and they learned I had a music ed background and asked if I would teach music one day a week. Sure! So along with subbing where needed, I taught music appreciation for the kindergarten-through-5th grades. This actually was very good--I had them one half hour to an hour a day one day a week. And the classroom teacher was there to deal with any problems. That segued into teaching 7th grade when the teacher left to pursue a degree in school administration. This year at the Catholic school did seem to heal my disillusionment a bit.

Then I went to a K-8 small rural school as the language arts and ESL teacher for 6th through 8th grades. I really struggled with the discipline again (including some self-discipline of my own) and when the time came for renewing contracts, the principal/superintendent told me I wouldn't be rehired. So I had to look elsewhere.

I went into my room and prayed. I asked God for help, because it was pretty obvious that what I was doing wasn't where I needed to be. I asked Him to help me, to show me where He wanted me to be. I remember the incident well. "Lord, I don't know where You want me. I want to be able to stay somewhere at least five years. This moving from job to job is so discouraging! I'll fill out the applications. I'll go to interviews. But so I know I'm going where you want me to go, I'm asking for a sign. Lord, I'm going to be like Gideon and ask for something specific. I will know where you want me because the school will send me a contract to sign within two weeks."

I applied. I interviewed. I traveled all over the state. I even went into neighboring states for two interviews. Thirteen days after my interview here on the Res, the contract arrived in the mail.

"Lord, are you sure that's where you want me?" I went to see the housing and arrangements, and as I was driving by a small church I saw a revival tent set up. Since I was spending the weekend finding my way around, I decided to try them out. One meeting there and I felt I had come home.

That was in the summer of 1991. It's now 2006. I'm not saying I've been super happy all the time, but I do like it here, and I haven't felt called to leave yet. I'm content with the thought that if God wants me here till I retire, I can do that; also if he wants me to leave I can do that.

Anyway, that's the long version of why I'm here on the Reservation.