It's hard for me to believe, but I've been in my current role of Instructional Technology Specialist almost 10 years. It was 16 years ago that I started in this district as a middle school librarian. That means I'm starting my SEVENTEENTH year in the district. I can't say it seems exactly like yesterday, but it definitely doesn't seem like close to two decades.
Where does the time go, anyway?
When I started back to work in 2000, I had been home with my kids for several years; they were 9 and 7. Now they are 25 and 23. I was married to the wrong person at the time; now I've been married to the right person for over 11 years. The best people I've ever known work in my school district, and I'm proud to call them all acquaintances, and many of them capital-F Friends. My current co-workers are beyond amazing, and I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunities I've had. As grueling as being back in grad school can be, I love what I'm learning. I have ideas that seem to have a good chance of coming to fruition. Life is by all accounts pretty good.
Tomorrow begins another school year. You may have not liked children all that much back in May, when the last school year was wrapping up and it was all you could do to drag yourself into your classroom or library every day. But tomorrow. Oh, tomorrow: I know how excited you all are to get to meet your new crop of students and to see how the year will unfold. Into your room tomorrow will walk all kinds of students... those who have every advantage, and those who have never once had an advocate before you came into their lives. They will need you in ways you can't imagine, but I know you: you will rise to their every need and do more than many people would ever dream possible.
I went to yoga this morning, and when my sweet yoga instructor greeted me as I was signing in and gave the usual, "How are you?" my reply came out unbidden: "I'm happy to be here." But I've kind of been contemplating my response all day today.
Happy: I WAS happy to be there. People at yoga always seem to enjoy being there, I make some amount of progress in stretchiness, and I always feel better when I leave than when I went in. I am the kind of relentlessly optimistic person that others probably find annoying sometimes; I can find the silver lining in any cloud. "Happiness is a choice" sounds like a trite aphorism at times, and I do believe that some people are just wired for optimism or pessimism. But I also think everyone does have at least some degree of choice about how they view and respond to their surroundings. I am basically content, and I count that as a gift.
To Be: The older I get, the more I value the opportunity to just get to live and breathe on this planet. Time moves faster every year; it seems like it was just five or ten minutes ago that we were celebrating Christmas, and here we are almost at the end of August already. What a gift it is every day to wake up and smell coffee and have dog hair to sweep up and get to laugh with coworkers or have dinner with friends and go to bed with my best friend of all. To BE, to exist, to live: when you step back from it, is there anything to say besides WOW. My father died at the age of 44, so I've already had 12 more years than he had. I hope not to squander any time here in this precious existence.
Here: on this planet, in this city, in your home and your school. At yoga, at a great job, even sitting in traffic. Of all the places we could have ended up, we are HERE! Tomorrow your HERE will be your classroom; your students' HERE will be their school, your room. What a great place to be! Make your students' HERE the best place it can possibly be for the next 10 months or so!
Happy. To Be. Here.
Happy to Be, Here.
Happy, to be Here.
Yes. Yes I am. I hope that you are, too. Have a great day tomorrow, everyone!