Between classes. Sorting through

5 Feb

papers and wanting to do something different for next class, so the 1A-ers can feel more from the meeting.  Thinking of separating from the Plath chats for a moment or two.  Getting to know more about the students, and the student experience and story.  Eating some peanut butter-filled pretzels from the break room, and … that’s my lunch.  That’s me, now, in the conference room as I always am and writing to pass time but to as well collect.  Tomorrow, to other life, the business life.  But here, now, I’m present.  I’m a teacher.  Learning from students and being taught by them more than I conventionally teach them.  To me, teaching has always been learning, and re-learning.  Where teaching becomes flawed or weak, or “bad”, is when the educator either forgets how to be educated or thinks their self, plainly, is past it.  You’re always learning, regardless of how many years you’ve been doing anything.

Between classes, with all this stuff around me, no this table and on the bookshelves and what be, I collect, to self better connect.  I want to feel more from the meeting, more from the 90 minutes we’re together.  I already know where I’m going with the meeting, writing out a plan, more or less.  Think I may need something to eat, especially if I’m going for a run later.  Deciding… deciding what to do, pretty much the entire nuclear makeup of my English 5 meeting.  Deciding I’ll post to blog, then walk to caf’ and get something to eat, something small… life of a teacher, always clutter and always a heavy bag, always grading and always, always planning.  Always LEARNING, the only way I can be.  And I’m learning, that I have to eat to be my most successful functioning self, much I try to ignore the hunger, today, now, it me hits.  And hard.  So, picking up all this clutter, and taking off.

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