It's 9:34 on September 2. In less than 24 hours, all of the philosophizing, planning, strategizing, reading, discussing, revising, and hoping will all come together as my students walk through the doors for the first time. Commence antsiness...
I am by nature a very analytical person. I was talking about this with my wife yesterday and we both articulated that when I think about something, it consumes me. This is a rather nice way to say that I can become mildly obsessed. I need to think about things from multiple angles. I work and re-work scenarios in my mind. It doesn't matter if I am thinking about a woodworking project, how to help my son with his bedtime routine, what I want to make my wife for Christmas, or teaching.
While the end result is a well-thought out position or plan for the subject of my thoughts, it is, needless to say, an exhausting process. Not only is it exhausting, but it is quite difficult for me to think about multiple things at once. Truth be told, I am terrible at it. I tend to get into "modes" or "zones" and let everything else drift from the center of my focus. Despite being able to still see things in my periphery, it is certainly not with the same amount of clarity with which I see what my current subject of focus.
All that is to say that it has been difficult to have something as monumental as designing a new curriculum, course, and strategy for reaching students going through my mind for six months, while also trying to balance out all of my other interests and responsibilities. I worked each Monday over the course of the summer, and then four days a week for three weeks in August planning this new endeavor. For the sake of my family, I tried very hard to "turn off" when I was home and just focus on having a wonderful summer with my amazing wife and crazy boys. Which we did.
Then came August 28. The first teacher workshop day back.
It's time.
The shift.
The "zone."
Time to finally allow teaching to move closer to the center of my focus where it will remain for the next nine months. There is a whole other blog post to write sometime about being committed to having a healthy balance this year between school and family.
But here I sit. In Panera. The sounds of fancy coffee machines gurgling, large amounts of ice being poured for who-knows-why, patrons jabbering, and a Dylan-esque station coming through the speakers directly above me all compete for my attention. Now that I think about it, it's not a bad metaphor for what I have been writing about. I am focussed on getting this post completed and my thoughts out about all that I am feeling the day before "game day," and yet so many things compete for my attention.
At the end of the day, all I really am sure of right now is that I absolutely cannot wait for those students to walk through the doors to my classroom. I cannot wait to begin this journey together. I know I have so much to learn about this new journey and about them and about myself and my craft. But I cannot wait. To fall flat on my face, to see my students succeed, to end the day with a smile on my face. All of it. Bring it on.
I'm ansty and I just want it to be here. I feel a bit like I did when I swam in high school. Months of prep. Countless decisions each day about how to better prepare my body and mind for States at the end of the season. Now here I am, about to jump in the water, getting my mind into the zone. Who knows how the race will end, but for me, it was never really about the end of the race. I loved the adrenaline as I stepped up onto the block. I loved that everything went quiet and my mind was focussed on only one thing. I loved the feel of my arms through the water. I loved the feeling as I flipped my body and slammed my feet against the wall to change directions. I loved pushing my body as hard as possible. I loved mind and body united, for once, on a single focus. I just loved the race.
I am so excited to jump back in the water...
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