And yet, as I enter my twelfth year over the course of twenty-one years since I stepped foot into my first classroom (having taken time off for family)...
I can testify to this. It's so much easier. Meaning, it is so less anxious and more enjoyable. I think about my early days of teaching and smile at the energy. The overwhelmingness of everything. Oh, there's nothing like a first teacher.
They are the best and worst teachers, for sure. Best, in that they are full of ideas, ideas and passion. But, new teachers suffer from such anxiety, angst, worry and self-doubt.
I smile at the copy of Jonathan Kozol's "Letters to a Young Teacher" I once pored over pages; now still keep on my desk as reminder.
A reminder of the young, scrappy, idealistic teacher I once was. Of all the hilarious, embarrassing and stupid things I did. Of all the wonderful, creative and inspired things I produced.
What I could have never anticipated was the reward of watching my students grow up and succeed in life.
What a joy to be surprised by this gift late in my career of teaching.
Philosophical, patient, wise. Those are the feelings with which I fortitude myself tonight as I prepare dinner for my family, weed a bit in my garden and retire to bed early, anticipating a sound night's sleep and an awesome day tomorrow.
First Day of School is a teacher's first best day. Last Day of School is second best. Summer time and Snow Days are lagniappe.
New Teachers, please try to sleep. Tomorrow will be head-spinning at best. Older teachers like me? Enjoy. You know what I mean...
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