Geezuz. I had a whole post in my head. I wanted to come home and tell you how I'd done one thing differently, and it had opened in my mind so many possibilities that my mind was racing and unpuzzling all day long.
It was exhilarating.
DH kept asking me why I was staring at the ceiling, gnawing at my lip, and half-smiling.
And I had a huge breakthrough in teaching, while writing. It's funny how all the things in my life feed each other. How one thing teaches me about the other, how working on another thing forces me to improve on the first thing.
So I get home, thrilled, totally excited to teach this week, after this HUGE breakthrough. I haven't felt this excited in months, maybe even a couple years!
And, as usual, a parent has an email for me.
Because teaching isn't really about teaching. In our society today, we must not only be held accountable for how the students learn, but we must force them to learn with our hands tied behind our backs and all power to actually prepare them taken away from us.
What can you do? You pace, you plan, you time things, and in the end, no matter what you plan, they sweep the rug out from under the plan in the eleventh hour, and still expect the same results.
Sometimes, teaching makes me tired. Real tired.
But that's okay. Sleep, wake up, new day, new enthusiasm.
Ah well. Sometimes you wonder: when is something an obstacle to be overcome, and when is something a message from the universe?