I just finished reading a great book. It’s the kind of book where I nod my head often in agreement, laugh out loud at anecdotes expertly placed in the context of a chapter lesson, and cry uncontrollably at the end….wait…what? Yeah I was surprised too!
So I, of course, have to blog it out.
This book opened old flesh wounds for me. I know I connect with gifted kids because of the way that I see and do things differently. Being different is hard, it’s fun, it’s exciting, it empowers me, but it is hard. Sometimes emotionally hard, when others be-little what I spend time doing in my room, and act as if I am not really teaching. Professionally hard, when I am evaluated on a set of in the box standards for what my students should be doing each minute of the day instead of looking at the outcome of knowledge. Personally hard because I have spent hours, days, years creating and designing and researching….at the expense of my own family, always trying to manage that balance between school and home, knowing the powerful impact it will have on these future citizens, only to be reprimanded for not following the plan. It’s hard to sacrifice time with my own son and feel the daggers being thrown , and still choose to fight for my students.
I have given up many things these past two or three years, and I think some of the tears were about missed opportunities with those students. I still flew the pirate flag occasionally, but most of the time the white flag was out, and I taught in the box I was handed…the same box that every other teacher gets. I did it partly for some personal health reasons, but that really isn’t the whole reason. I did it because I was tired. I will never get those kids back, and that makes me sad.
I also cried I think because I am scared. Scared to face the oncoming marauders..again. I am inspired to get back up and wield my sword once again, but the wounds of past battles remind me that it will not be easy, it will not be popular, it will not be pretty. I will have to build up my mental and physical self, my skin will have to become thick again, and I will have to work hard to keep the balance of work and home because my son needs me to be present and engaged.
My final burst of tears was about what other people think…something Dave talks about. This is a transition year for us. New building, new teams, fairly new principal. Even without flying my flag, this would be a hard year. I will expose myself to people I barely know. I will cause waves in the new pond, and that will force my principal to analyze me and decide whether or not he can afford to let the waves roll, or if he has to get me back in the box for the sake of controlling the masses. I respect him, and I don’t want to cause him extra stress in an already stressful year.
So what will I do? Lay down my sword and leave the fight to a younger, less scarred pirate? I doubt it. I will most likely grab the sword, run into the oncoming year, and raise my pirate flag proudly over my ship. I just wish I felt better about it than I do right now.