It's been 65 days since the first day of school. 65 days of all new ... everything. Some days I'm still not sure what I think. Some days I'm exactly sure what I think. Today is one of those days. It's fantastic. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
But it's been hard.
It's been hard to walk my children to their classrooms and turn and drive off campus. Mondays are the worst. The first 8 or 9 Mondays I wanted to turn around and go back. It's been hard to talk with former colleagues about how things are going and know that I'm on the outside now. As much as I love them and as much as I love my former students, I lose something when I'm not there every day. And I should. I'm not saying I shouldn't. But it's hard. It's hard to see my (big) kids once or twice a month and to see that they're growing and doing things like applying to college, getting accepted, falling in love. Who are these people? How have I only been gone 5 months and so much has changed? I look at these young men and women and know that I can't hold onto who I thought they should be because if I did, I wouldn't be able to see who they will become. I still want to be a part of that. I'm not. Not really. I miss them. When I think about it too hard, I miss them so much it hurts. So I try not to think about them. And that hurts, too.
On the other side, it's been hard, too. I'm not social. I'm sort of pseudo-social. I can have a conversation. I can start one. I'm terrible at ending them. In fact, my favorite people are the ones who sort of concurrently, non-verbally agree that the conversation is over and we just go back to what it is that we need to do. They're rare. Most people find that rude. I don't. But I haven't found a lot of people like that in the world. I talk a lot. It's almost a nervous tick. Sometimes I annoy myself by my own talking. I'm working on that. I miss not having any space at all. Sometimes all I want to do is shut a door between me and everything else. I can't do that. Not yet. Soon, though. I don't know where I belong yet. I'm floating in that nebulous area between newcomer and friend. I don't like that area. It's awkward. I don't make friends easily. That's awkward, too.
I think I'm doing good work where I am. It's all anecdotal evidence. But I feel like what I'm doing has value. That matters a lot. I work with some incredible, talented, intelligent, hardworking people. That matters a lot, too. I think that the work we do matters, and that's important. I think that I have an opportunity, a really great one, to make a small contribution to the world I live in. And that's really all I've ever wanted.
65 really good, really hard days. I'll take that.
But it's been hard.
It's been hard to walk my children to their classrooms and turn and drive off campus. Mondays are the worst. The first 8 or 9 Mondays I wanted to turn around and go back. It's been hard to talk with former colleagues about how things are going and know that I'm on the outside now. As much as I love them and as much as I love my former students, I lose something when I'm not there every day. And I should. I'm not saying I shouldn't. But it's hard. It's hard to see my (big) kids once or twice a month and to see that they're growing and doing things like applying to college, getting accepted, falling in love. Who are these people? How have I only been gone 5 months and so much has changed? I look at these young men and women and know that I can't hold onto who I thought they should be because if I did, I wouldn't be able to see who they will become. I still want to be a part of that. I'm not. Not really. I miss them. When I think about it too hard, I miss them so much it hurts. So I try not to think about them. And that hurts, too.
On the other side, it's been hard, too. I'm not social. I'm sort of pseudo-social. I can have a conversation. I can start one. I'm terrible at ending them. In fact, my favorite people are the ones who sort of concurrently, non-verbally agree that the conversation is over and we just go back to what it is that we need to do. They're rare. Most people find that rude. I don't. But I haven't found a lot of people like that in the world. I talk a lot. It's almost a nervous tick. Sometimes I annoy myself by my own talking. I'm working on that. I miss not having any space at all. Sometimes all I want to do is shut a door between me and everything else. I can't do that. Not yet. Soon, though. I don't know where I belong yet. I'm floating in that nebulous area between newcomer and friend. I don't like that area. It's awkward. I don't make friends easily. That's awkward, too.
I think I'm doing good work where I am. It's all anecdotal evidence. But I feel like what I'm doing has value. That matters a lot. I work with some incredible, talented, intelligent, hardworking people. That matters a lot, too. I think that the work we do matters, and that's important. I think that I have an opportunity, a really great one, to make a small contribution to the world I live in. And that's really all I've ever wanted.
65 really good, really hard days. I'll take that.
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