The Winding Path

I awoke this morning to the excitement of my seventh first day of school as an educator. Seven late summers of frantic preparation. Seven rounds of teacher in-service. Seven times of being joyfully reunited with colleagues as if we hadn’t seen each other in decades. Seven glimpses of fresh young faces that are happy or scared or just plain lost. Seven opportunities to ooh and ahhh over new clothes and unicorn backpacks and shoes that light up like the Vegas strip. Seven years witnessing Kindergartners trying not to cry (and failing). And the parents of said Kindergartners also trying to hold it together with about the same results.

I love it all.

I love the hum of energy in the air. I love the way classrooms don’t yet smell like sweaty prepubescent boys fresh from PE or the sun-soaked playground. I love the shiny, waxed hallway floors. I love the Pinterest-driven classroom themes. I love the sweet hugs from returning students and the optimism that exudes from the same teachers that were on the ragged edge of burnout just twelve short weeks ago.

These are the threads that are just beginning to be woven into the tapestry of a new school year. Some of that fabric will be beautiful and bring joy. Some will break our hearts. But it will be our collective story and we will be forever intertwined because of it.

I am amazed at where this teaching journey has taken me in those seven years. From classroom teacher to remediation interventionist/instructional strategist, and now this Fall my new role as our district’s Literacy Coordinator, overseeing a federal grant that will boost literacy in our community from birth to grade 12. I am very, very (very, very, very, very, very) excited about this stunning opportunity to impact literacy on a large scale. Excited (and a little terrified).

I cannot fail to mention the love of my teaching heart, Project Armchair. Thirty volunteers and 2,000+ books donated and given away to children in crisis in the last three years. It continually amazes and humbles me. Such an unexpected and beautiful part of my journey!

Each switchback in my career has been the stepping stone for the next thing. Each major decision an open door to an unknown hallway. When I entered the college classroom again in my late forties with the hair-brained idea of starting a new career in teaching, I had no idea where it would all lead. But God did, and I am grateful. Grateful to have a purpose for this stage of my life. Grateful to have intersected with so many truly wonderful and warm people along the way. Grateful for a life partner that encourages hair-brained ideas (I love you, sweetheart!)

May this year be the most beautiful tapestry yet.