Nevada Hates Michigan Teachers

I am SO EXCITED to start my new job as a middle school language arts teacher this fall.

There is just the TIIIIIINY detail of my having a Nevada teaching license, which is required for me to be eligible to do this job.

For those of you not in the field of Education, Michigan is one of the toughest states to get licensed in. Because of this, Michigan has "reciprocity" with 48 states (including Nevada), which means that a Michigan license should be easy to convert into a license for another state.

Well, that's what they TOLD me anyway. So far, I am not feeling the love from Nevada. I guess I can't really blame the state itself, but more a series of unfortunate events that has hindered my new licensure.

It all started when I went to the Nevada State Department of Education to get the forms I needed to fill out. Rex went with me - we put the Nevada State Department of Education's address in our GPS, and we were off to get my new license! WHOO HOO!
After driving around where the office was supposed to be for about twenty minutes, we were both understandably frustrated. I mean, it's the NEVADA DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION. You would think that would be an easy building to find! We wondered if it moved, and I checked the address again on my phone's internet browser. Nope, we definitely had the right place. So WHERE WAS IT? Finally we stopped at the UPS store close to where this alleged "department of education" was supposed to be. We walked in sheepishly, and Rex said to the man working, "I know this sounds really dumb, but do you know if the Nevada Department of Education is anywhere around here?" The man chuckled and said, "No problem. I get that all the time." He took us outside and pointed to a red building that was not marked at all. He said THAT was it. Rex and I had our doubts, but we thanked him and walked over to the building. When we got to the front, there was LITERALLY an 8.5 by 11 sheet of paper in the front window with the words "Nevada State Department of Education" written on it. Oh heavens. So we walked in, and our eyes were accosted by one of the most grandiose displays of oppulence that I have ever seen. Seriously. The ceilings were over twenty feet high, and a gold winding staircase led up to the second floor. Two GIANT (read: taller than me) lion statues guarded the marble floor of the lobby. A chandelier that was probably about six feet tall and had hundreds of lights on it floated from the ceiling in the center of the room. Rex and I looked at each other in shock - this building was BEAUTIFUL inside! He turned to me and said, "Do you think they just got so excited about decorating this lobby that they forgot to leave budget for a sign?" I suppose that's what happened. Because all they had was that 8.5 by 11 sheet of paper. Ha ha! What a weird place.

When we finally got to the right person, I was given the forms I needed to fill out. One of them included a fingerprinting card that I had to take to the local police station in order to be fingerprinted. (Side note: it costs $170 to be fingerprinted in Michigan. It costs $10 in Nevada. What's up with that?!)
So Rex and I went to the police station. Now THAT was an interesting experience. The fingerprinting lady checked my ID and then led me back to the fingerprinting station. It was this cool machine with a bright green scanner that SCANS your fingerprints and then prints them on the card. Cool! No inky fingers for me! Well, this lady was doing my fingerprints and jabbering on about how pretty the mountains are around here...
...when suddenly I woke up to Rex saying urgently "Christine!!! Are you okay?!?" and hearing the fingerprinting lady in the background calling 911 and freaking out. Oh...awesome. I sat up, confused, and asked Rex what happened (even though I was starting to figure it out). Apparently I blacked out in the middle of my fingerprinting and just fell over. So the lady called 911 and a TROOP of EMS guys came in to take care of me (even though I was already awake now and just highly embarrassed). Seriously - there were 5 or 6 burly men who barreled into the room to check on me. It almost seemed like a joke: "How many huge EMS reponders does it take to recussitate an already awake and just fine girl?" I was waiting for some kind of punch line, but nope. It wasn't a joke. They hooked me up to a bunch of heart probes, stuck some oxygen thingy in my nose, put a blood pressure cuff on my arm, and read a bunch of stuff off of their monitor that they brought with them. They asked if I had any medical history they should know about. I almost laughed out loud and told them to take a seat - that explanation would take a while. I pretty much summarized my medical history the best that I could within 15 seconds, and they looked at me as if I was delirious on top of whatever else was wrong with me. I could almost see their thoughts: "Panic attacks? Brain tumors? This girl is totally making crap up right now..." But they just smiled in the way you would smile at a ticking bomb and asked me if I would like to be transported to the hospital. I said no thank you, that I was fine. So they begrudgingly unhooked me from all of their little machines and packed up their bags. When they left, the very traumatized fingerprinting lady stammered, "Ummm...do you still want to finish your fingerprints?" Yes. I did. Seriously, after all of that trouble, I'd BETTER get them done! So she finished them as quickly as possibe and ushered me out of the door, giving me her own personal cran-grape juice and telling me to "feel better soon." And THAT, my friends, was the new most embarrassing experience of my life.

After all the trouble I went through to get fingerprinted, I figured that had BETTER be nice to me at the licensing department. After all, I had already spent 20 minutes trying to find their office and then getting an ambulance called on me in the police station.

We waited until the next day to go back to the licensing office (mostly because the fingerprinting lady wasn't the only one shaken up about the whole experience - I was kind of freaked out too). When we went back, I proudly presented my ENTIRE packet of crap that I had to round up: my Michigan license, my original transcripts from MSU, my orginal MTTC test scores, the forms they gave me, the fingerprinting cards, and a money order for $161 (geez Nevada - with prices like that you could AT LEAST buy a sign for your building!). The woman processed my paperwork and said, "Okay, looks like you have everything! You should get your new license in 10-16 weeks."

TEN TO SIXTEEN WEEKS?!?! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO PRINT OUT A LICENSE!?? YOU ALREADY CHECKED THAT I HAVE ALL OF MY PIECES! BLAH! I was a little panicked - my new job is supposed to start August 15. What if I didn't get it in time (which, with 10-16 weeks, I most definitely would not)?!?! So this lady gave me a sketch little piece of paper saying that I have been approved for a license but just don't have it yet. It looks about as legit as their sign. It's a good thing my boss loves me, or this would never fly. Luckily, I went into the school today and she DOES love me, so everything is going to be okay. PHEW! I am never applying for another teaching license EVER AGAIN. Sorry Rex - we have to spend the rest of our lives in Michigan or Nevada. Those are your only two choices.