Blue-Sky Teaching

I told my students the other day that I wanted to be a life coach, not a teacher.  Heads lifted, eye brows raised, and one kid said, "You're leaving us? I thought you liked teaching." I stood for a moment, savoring all the questioning eyes, hurt looks, the tears (I do have an active imagination), and then clarified. "No," I told them, "I don't mean I want to change jobs, I mean I want to change my job title."  Heads tilted sideways, like my dog Sally when I ask her questions. If I'm still a teacher, then I'm still called a teacher.  Yes, but, words matter and attitude matters. The title teacher has so many meanings to so many different people in the year 2018, and often too many negative connotations.  The word teacher feels too heavy right now; it doesn't allow us to remember why we became teachers in the first place--the passion, the innovation, the desire for change.  I just think, for me, a new title would help me stay true to w

My daughter Emma hates to buy new shoes.  For the longest time this utterly baffled to me.  I love new shoes.  I love browsing the shoe aisles, picking up shoes, trying them on, and finally selecting the perfect pair.  But not Emma.  Emma resists even acknowledging me when I suggest that her well-worn sneakers are looking a bit shabby and we could go shoe shopping.  "I'm good," she says, over and over again. Finally, I asked, "Emma?  Why don't you like new shoes?" Her explanation reminds me of my classroom conversations with students who have just finished the first book they ever loved and now they're trying to get into a new one. "They're so comfy right now," Emma explained, "I love the way they feel; they're perfect.  If I get new ones, they'll be all stiff and won't feel right. I'll have to break them in, and I hate that feeling.  These fit great so there's no point in getting new ones.  They won't b

I've now cleaned my entire desk.  I W indexed my desk.  It's super shiny.  So are the windows above my desk. I finally got the remnants of those Christmas decals off so now I have a bright, open view of my neighborhood.  What all this really means is that I'm trying to sit down and write something.  I'd like to tell you I've been on a break, or I took a hiatus to do some important work, as those famous authors on Twitter say. But I haven't been on hiatus.  I've rambled a whole notebook of random-thought journaling.  I have three blog drafts that I decided were nothing anyone else would ever want to read, so they're just sitting, lonely and sad, in my blog list.  And I participated in a bunch of Twitter Chats. But today with my clean window and shiny desk, I'm sitting down to explore this yucky slump I've been in, how I'm attempting to pull myself out, and to tell you, that if you're in a slump too, why it's important to come out o