What Am I?

The second thing we usually learn about someone upon meeting them is what they do for a living.  We learn their name first, then their job right afterward.  As if, in American culture at least, our identity is so closely tied to our profession that the only thing that identifies us any more precisely is our name.

My name is Corey and I'm a substitute teacher.  And I have no clue what that says about me.  On the good days I see myself as a kind of Special Forces agent, striding into hostile territory with minimal information about the enemy and no way of knowing what I'll be getting into; having to make the most of the limited opportunity I have to influence the future generation.  Those really are good days, when I get in my car at the end of it and I feel like having been in that class, in that school, on that day made a difference.  Far too often, though, I feel like a mix between a babysitter and an underpaid prison guard. Far too many days the lesson plans I am left read 1) Hand out worksheet 2) Students must work silently on it all period 3) Collect at the bell.  These are the days I feel all but useless, whether I'm "teaching" calculus or study hall.

I have my license to teach French, but no job yet.  Does that make me a French teacher?  Wouldn't it be false to say I was a trucker if I had my CDL, but actually worked as a dispatcher?  What about if I were an MD that wasn't currently practicing?  The trouble, I believe, is that I have done a lot of different things in my life, but have never felt like I am my job, with two odd, but notable exceptions.  The first being a student and the second was when I was a waiter.  For some reason those two things felt like me, even though I was only doing them as a means to an end.  Some of the things I do that could help people gain an understanding of me (painting, stained glass, poetry, writing fiction, etc.) are not ways that I make my living, so I'm not comfortable saying, "I'm an artist," or "I'm a writer."  When people ask me about hobbies my brain does some weird, linguistic slight of hand and I alway say "I make stained glass" instead if "I am s stained glass artist."  Somehow that makes a difference in my perception of things.

Things are going to be even more confusing after the move to the UAE, I think.  I don't have a job yet and I have no idea what I'm going to be doing once we get there, or if I'll even be able to find a job.  Then what will I be or do?  A stay-at-home dad to a dog?  A homemaker?  A useless lump on the couch watching bad Netflix and increasing my gravitational pull?