Be not afraid of greatness

I had no idea when I started this blog, what challenges I would encounter this year. I only knew that I would indeed encounter them.
This prediction has proven all too accurate.

I now face a huge decision.
Do I accept more of the same OR do I venture out into the unknown, in the hopes of recapturing some of the life I've given away in the last few years?

The earth-shattering disappointment I've faced this week has left me bruised and bitter. It has opened my eyes to the truth.
I've been a martyr to my job...sacrificing myself on the altar of "whatever it takes"...and it has taken whatever I had...plus some.

I'm in the red.

The next few weeks promise to be some of the most challenging of my life. It feels like childbirth. I'm giving birth to greatness.
I just don't know if I'm ready.

Spring Fever

In my mind, summer has already begun. I'm just waiting for the calendar to catch up with me.

In spite of my rather dorky excitement over producing the 9th grade play this year, I find myself all-too-frequently bowled over by bouts of "I'm sick of this...".
The hardest part about this is the fact that OTHER teachers who are experiencing the same thing keep looking to me for advice.

I tell them.."It's normal".
Smile and say "No, you're a good teacher."
Pat their shoulders and remind them "You don't HATE the kids"

And I mean it.
For THEM.

I'm not so sure about me.

So I've taken my colleague Leigh Anne's idea and started planning my summer projects.
Here are things I plan to do.

1. Have a 30th birthday party
2. Go to Disney World with my daughter and parents
3. Spend a long weekend in Boston visiting friends (with my BF)
4. Read 1 book per week
5. Write like mad
6. Take the GRE
7. Move into a new house (rental)
8. Write curriculum
9. Go to the Mu Sigma reunion in Arkansas (an anti-sorority group consisting of my college girlfriends)
10. Take an exercise class (hot yoga, body sculpting or something)

This is what I will live for. This will carry me through the final weeks of school. This and sangria.

T.S. Eliot told me that "April is the cruelest month."
At least there's June.

Re: Lost in Translation

The previous post came from a note scribbled in a notebook about two years ago, following a rather difficult conversation with my then-fickle boyfriend .

Although we are occasionally nervous about the plans for the future (which seem to be falling into place in spite of our fears), we are hopeful.

Love is like climbing Mt. Everest... frightening and beautiful.

Lost in Translation

People do actually say what they mean, it's just a matter of translating what was said into what was meant.

He told me, "To be perfectly honest, I'm not totally sure I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

First of all, nobody is "perfectly honest" in adult relationships.
The word perfectly may as well be exchanged for the word partially; a word which cancels out the one that follows...honest.
So now, his lips are moving, but the words have destroyed each other, leaving behind smoke and ash that slips through my fingers and flutters to the floor.

Conscious Consciousness

Written 12/29/2006

Seconds before consciousness sweeps over me, I feel myself breathing. The first breath feels like the first of my life, though I know they have been coming in rhythmic pattern for 27 years.
Slowly, I become aware of my body. Lithe limbs tingling, a wave of warmth moving inward towards my spine. The wave finds its way to my dream-weary mind and rests there.

Consciousness.

I feel as if I have just been plugged in. The currents of reality course through my body. At once, I am part of this universe. Interminably attached. My place in it carefully carved out.
Then comes the familiar longing. The desire to push at the boundaries of my place in the universe. My arms stretch out in response. Fingers brush against obligations, memories and expectation. Though threaded together, they give way at my touch.
There is room to grow.
Hope swells.
It is at this moment that my eyes flutter open. Just before the light of day reflects off each surface of the world around me, I catch a glimpse of it.
Opportunity.
A chance for freedom.

Education Reform

This whole blog was intended to be about changes. At the start of it, I had no idea that even the changes I planned to make would change.

I've long been planning to enroll in graduate school to earn an MFA in Creative Writing. I love writing (though I don't do it nearly as often as I should).
But somehow, the application deadlines came and went. I did not apply. Primarily because there's always been this nagging doubt in a small, quiet corner of my mind. Also because, quite frankly, I didn't have the money.

As fate would have it, doors have begun swinging open in other areas. A growing part of my role at YES has been to support/mentor other teachers. It is something that comes naturally.

• I run into a teacher in the lounge.
• He/she mentions some issue in his/her classroom.
• Ideas pop into my mind about what could be done.
• I offer the suggestions (or other resources).
• I follow up with them later.
• I get a HUGE burst of satisfaction when the situation improves.
  

Now, there's a strong possibility that I could be eligible for a more formal position which would allow me to do just that!

I'm passionate about education. The "system", for reasons innumerable, is in desperate need of reform. Only recently have I begun to realize that I could have a much greater influence in the world of public education than what I've been able to make in my classroom...even in the classrooms of fellow teachers.

So now, I'm reforming my education plans. A Master's degree in Education - Curriculum and Instruction is beginning to make more sense. There are a couple of institutions that offer flexible programs for working individuals.
After that, I could pursue an Ed.D. in Educational Leadership and Policy.
Always a planner, I find myself thrilled by the feasibility...the almost tangible possibility of such a 5-6 year plan.

I have goosebumps right now.

Now, to get the ball rolling. Where do I begin?

Fringes

It is February (darn near the end of it actually) and I haven't written anything in over a month. How dare I call myself a writer!

The truth is, more has been going on with me than I even care to write about. I'm afraid that if I start, I'll never stop. I'm afraid that, if I write, I'll feel guilty because I should have been doing something else...like everything else on my to-do list.

Life is like this. A delicate negotiation (I heard this in a movie once...Dog Problem...Giovanni Ribisi). Right now, I feel as if I am precariously teetering on the fringes of sanity. Writing might tip me over the edge.
And it's not the process itself that I fear. It's the content.
Pardon me while I dance ever so lightly around the issues.

My daughter is going through a phase (I hope). Overly talkative and disruptive at school. Unusually clingy at home. Did I do something wrong? Am I an insensitive mother because all I really want, at the end of a long day at work, is an hour of solitude?

If I want a real chance at promotion next year, I must prove myself at work. This means getting more done in a day than I ever have before. But what about the balance I was aiming for? Why are my achievements never enough for them...or me?

My mother vehemently disapproves of my relationship. There is no compromise to be had here. It's either her or him. And I'm not sure I can live without either one.

As for him, well...change is in the air. I thought I wanted it. We're seriously talking about moving forward...moving in. But I never expected it to happen this way. Should we do it for LOVE or LOGIC? I used to vote for logic...the better choice. But now I want love. Can I switch parties on inauguration day?

There it is, in a wildly-spinning nutshell. I'm just hanging on for the ride. When the dust settles, we'll all see who wins.