Year Eight?

I don’t want to become the jaded teacher. I don’t want to believe I’m working for a system that’s broken beyond compare, another gear in the machine, or part of the problem. That’s not why I went into teaching to begin with.

Hello, my Name is…

Odd contrast, but my favorite word to describe myself is a juxtaposition.

All the Emotions: Every Single One of them

So, if you need me in June…just expect me to be feeling a lot of emotions at a high level, possibly crying, definitely reminiscing, and likely holding my children tighter than they would like.

My People

It’s a genuine, grownup, supportive friendship. And even though I’m still awkward and too blunt, and all of my other flaws, I feel accepted by them for everything I am.

Oh, My Heart. Alternatively: Consider the Alternative

They’ll always be mine, but they’ll learn to be their own people too. I’ll have them as long as I can, because I don’t even want to consider the alternative.

Bone-Weary

And I’ll hope beyond hope, that next year eases some of the burden felt by teachers everywhere. By me. By my colleagues. By my friends who left the field too young, because it’s all too much sometimes.