Interim

There's a certain relief I feel since I’ve given up trying to capture the teaching experience in a blog. Or a conversation for that matter. I mean I appreciate the gesture but really ... how do I respond to, "So how's teaching going?" It’s so much bigger than I am, that right now I'm just scrambling for any kind of footing.

It seems every morning, I still wake up giddy in the honeymoon period of my job. I pull out of the driveway thinking I’ve figured out this teaching thing but second guess myself the whole drive home. Some days at the end of class, my kids throw me nods and fist-pounds on their way out. Other days, they step over my dignity and out the door, as I exhale in defeat. But no matter what, I go to sleep every night full and used. It’s the release that comes only when you're doing exactly what you were born to do. When you're living at your workplace, without wanting to be anywhere else. Spending yourself completely and feeling that it's all worth it. I can deal with the days I suck as a teacher because I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

It’s kind of like a first love all over again. When you have no experience, you're just happy to be there. It’s not better or worse than anything. It just is. Being in survival mode is simply about finishing. And when I do, THEN I’ll tell you how teaching is. In the meantime, this poem(0:58) says more about the first time than I’m able to say right now.