Monday, June 29, 2015
I woke up this morning and realized that it was a Monday and I didn't have to go anywhere school- related. This hasn't stopped me from thinking about school, planning lessons and piling up the teaching books that I optimistically hope to have read by summer's end. I am my own worst enemy.
What will I do after I retire? I've realized that this is my last summer planning for the next school year. For the past 31 years, I've told people that I refused to be defined by my career. I'm here to say that I was wrong -- teaching is in my bones, my heartbeat, my breath. I'm already consumed by regret that here at the end of it all, I'm finally getting a glimpse of the teacher I always longed to be. I'm a slow but steady learner. Part of me wants to dig in and keep at it for a while longer, but I know that it's time to stop. My aspirations have always been a moving mark well-ahead of my skill -- I can pat myself on the back that I've never given up trying to improve. I'm defined by that as well, and hope to carry that quality with me when I begin my new life next summer. What that new life will look like is still a mystery.