Nostalgia

It’s that time of year, proud parents posting their annual pix of their kids getting ready to start a new school year, some even a new school or stage of life. Schools publicize themselves with pep rallies, back to school videos and pictures, kick-off events, etc.

So it’s only natural that I nostalgically look back on a long and fulfilling career and start to think, “God, I’m glad I got out when I did.”

Didn’t see that coming, did you? The first year away from my profession was hard because I left behind a group of kids and teaching team of whom I was genuinely fond, even loved, but during the opening weeks of that first year or retirement, I recognized that, for once in my life, my timing was right on target. I could have kept going, of course, relying on experience and a lifetime of accumulated skills to compensate for diminished energy and enthusiasm, but it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone, not my kids, not my colleagues, not my family, not me.

So keep those pictures and posts coming, stay proud of your kids (whether your own or those you have the privilege to teach or work with), keep supporting your schools and teachers (you do make a difference and you do make your school better by being a part of the solution). I’ll be sitting at home, rooting you on and every once in a while summon the strength to stand up and cheer!

Happy New Year (and Happy Old Ones, Too)

New Year’s Eve, 1968. Our second date. Found out, among other things, Carolyn was a good sport. Playing charades (which she hates), her song title: Don’t Let the Screen Door Hit Ya Where the Cat Bit Ya. This would have been awful even for someone who liked the game!

We are all changed, to a greater or lesser degree, by our relationships, as well as events, random or not, depending on how you view the universe. (See Ray Bradbury’s A Sound of Thunder) In my own case, I think that’s especially true (and yes, I know we ALL think we’re more unique than we really are), because, at a really immature 20, I was wandering cluelessly through my life, with no idea as to what I was or where I was going. Becoming my authentic self wasn’t even something I had even thought about, wasn’t even in my field of vision. I can’t say who I was trying to be, mostly because I didn’t really know who I was.

Lucky for me, I found a partner who only knew how to be authentic and encouraged, prodded, and supported my halting journey toward a true self. I must also credit my career as a teacher for helping me forge my path, because kids, not just Holden Caulfield, can always spot the fakes and phonies, but none of it would have been possible without that safety net of unconditional love every day I came home.

I look forward to continuing that journey, and am thankful for having had someone to hold my hand as I’ve stumbled along these past 46 years. As I’ve told so many students in the past, life is a marathon, not a sprint, and as I start to make out the involuntary finish line in (what I hope is) the distant future, the goal is to keep on going, and work hard to help others as I can, or at least not run or stumble over anyone along the way.

May 2015 be a year of growth and joy for all of us.

A Quick Look Back

There are any number of conclusions you can draw from this. I’m just throwing out a little information of no particular importance (actually none, to me) and you can take it for what it’s worth or what you paid for it (which might well be same).

While filling up at the gas station ($3.59 per gallon, by the way and apropos of nothing) I saw signage for beer: $1.39. That triggered a memory of when I was a beginning teacher (1973) moonlighting at Skagg’s in their liquor department. Beer was then also $1.29 or $1.39. Of course, that was for a six-pack, not a single can. After taxes and other expenses, I probably made enough per hour to buy one of those six-packs for each hour I worked. The job DID improve my basic math skills, though.

Make of this what you will. Just a piece of whimsy.