Isolation of Montana

Upon earning my master’s degree in English at the University of South Dakota, I assumed securing a position teaching English at a top notch high school would be easy. I was mistaken! I explored job opportunities throughout the continental United States, but found no promising prospects. Eventually, I lost hope and broadened my search to include positions in vocal music, speech, or English. This ultimately led me to my most interesting interview in Whitlash, Montana.

Without the power of the internet, I had no knowledge of Whitlash. The job posting featured two openings: one for English and the other for vocal music. I submitted my cover letter along with my resume to the provided address and awaited a response. Soon enough, a school representative contacted me to arrange an interview. We decided that I would travel to Helena, from where she would drive me for three and a half hours to Whitlash to tour the school. Due to my youth and inexperience, it never occurred to me that the town was obviously quite remote.

The following week, I took the first flight of my life. Throughout the day of travel, the tension in my butt made it feel as if I were perched on a sharp stone. When I finally arrived in Helena and hopped into a taxi to my hotel, I was in complete disarray. Despite my efforts at deep breathing and stretching, I remained stressed, resulting in a sleepless night. By eight the next morning, I was dressed in my suit, anxiously waiting for my breakfast interview, desperately wishing I didn’t look as weary as I felt.

While interviewing, I focused on recalling the tips I had studied from a book borrowed from the library:

- Position yourself opposite your interviewer.

- Avoid ordering messy foods.

- Place your knife and fork down before responding to a question to avoid the

temptation of talking with your mouth full.

- Exhibit manners that would make my mother proud.

Beyond the sweat trickling down my spine and the desire to remove my wool blazer, the details of the interview are a blur.

Following breakfast, we got into a car for the long drive. Fortunately, instead of bombarding me with additional questions, the administrator shared stories about her family, her hobbies, and general insights about Montana. I noted that Whitlash was not a formal town, but an unincorporated community located on the northern edge of Montana near the border with Alberta, Canada. In 1995, it had a population of just thirty-four, and the only buildings included a small school, an apartment building, and the post office. There was also a solitary gas pump, which could only be accessed using a special card issued by a company located in Helena. This was hardly an ideal setting for a lone teacher from South Dakota.

The school was a long brick building ending in a tall pole barn serving as the gymnasium and cafeteria. I thoroughly enjoyed the chance to walk and stretch my legs and was disappointed that the tour was quite brief. When I was told that the position was available to me if I desired, I inquired about the subjects I would be teaching. To my dismay, I found out that my responsibilities would include English, vocal and instrumental music, and speech. I was speechless (a fitting pun). As we got back into the car for the lengthy, silent drive to Helena, I asked for some time to consider the proposition.

Even though I was certain of my decision the moment we arrived in Whitlash, I chose to wait until I returned to my home in South Dakota to contact the district and turn down their offer. At times, I find myself contemplating what it might have been like to educate ranch children on the outskirts of the Montana prairie. I envision that the isolation may have provided me with an opportunity to craft the great American novel or create a symphony. Perhaps I could have married a rancher and picked up horseback riding to help gather our cattle for auction. It's possible that enrolling in a correspondence course in education could have secured me the role of superintendent, and I might still be in Whitlash, embracing an ideal life. The possibilities are endless.

In the end, I came to understand that the vast potential I occasionally fear I missed in Whitlash is not limited to Montana; it has permeated my entire life. Though I have yet to produce the great American novel, the time spent teaching incredible children in Wyoming and Nebraska has led to stories that are uniquely theirs. The roads not taken have simply guided me to where I was always meant to be.