Books continued….(Please read the previous post first!)
I’ve never been to Europe. It’s on my list of things I want to do before I die. Sometimes I’m envious of the many young people in my classes who have already experienced traveling to other countries numerous times. But I have gone to those places through the books I’ve read. Books are also the closest thing we have to a working time machine. As I’ve already mentioned, I am fascinated with the Civil War, and when I read novels set in that era, I am transported back to another time and place. I truly feel like I’m there. One evening I was totally absorbed in the awesome conclusion of Michael Shaara’s The Killer Angels when the phone rang. It was a woman calling from St. Jude’s Hospital. I had agreed to solicit funds for them, and she needed some information. My mind resisted being jerked back to the present, and I couldn’t even remember my address! I was on a battlefield in 1863, and the little town of Bogart did not yet exist.
Some of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met were characters in books. Who can ever forget Atticus Finch or Scarlet O’Hara? Or Amy, Jo, Meg, and Beth? One summer, I read all the books in the Anne of Green Gables series. I remember it as one of my best summers ever. Anne became as real to me as any person I ever met. I know a book is good when I am sad to finish it and miss the people I came to know through its pages.
Biographies have helped me come to know Jackie Kennedy, Robert E. Lee, John Adams, Abraham Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt. Reading the letters they wrote and the speeches they made is the closest I can come to actually sitting down and talking to these great men and women of history.
I love books with beautiful language. I think of Cold Mountain and Peace Like a River. The latter was the first and perhaps all-time favorite of my book club. Another well-written and favorite book is Kite Runner. Some authors have a real gift for using words that makes prose sound like poetry.
Being southern, I love southern literature. Cold Sassy Tree would rank up there as one of my favorite books of all time. It was set right here in Georgia, just a few miles up the road from where I live. Jan Karon’s Mitford Series books are set in Blowing Rock, NC, and I’ve enjoyed every one of them. Eugenia Price wrote wonderful books about long-ago life on the Golden Isles of Georgia’s coast. I met Terry Kay, writer of To Do Dance with the White Dog, at our local Barnes and Noble and found him friendly and very likable. He lives in our area.
These days, I probably read more nonfiction than fiction. I’m always reading things that relate to the classes I teach, or I read about education in general. I’ve especially enjoyed Thomas Friedman’s The World is Flat and books by Thomas Sowell. James McPherson probably wrote the best single volume on the Civil War, Battle Cry of Freedom, and I plowed through it one summer. It wasn’t the easiest reading, but I truly enjoyed it and learned a great deal. I also learned much about America’s history from This Rebellious House by Keillor.
Philip Yancey is my favorite writer of Christian books. I can identify with him. He doesn’t try to dodge the hard questions or give pat answers, and has on occasion struggled with doubt. Other Christian authors I enjoy are C.S. Lewis, Francine Rivers, Os Guiness, and Charles Colson.
I’ve never really understood people who don’t like to read, but I have some theories as to why they don’t. I believe some of them are simply lacking in imagination. When they read, all they see are words on a page. No movie runs through their head. The people and places don’t become real to them. Of course, some people don’t read because they never learned how to read – at least not well. Other people, I’m sure, have just never found the right books. My husband was like that. Once he got into the suspense-thriller genre, he was hooked.
I believe some people learned to hate reading in school, where they were forced to read books that bored them to tears, or were too difficult for them to understand. Many well-meaning English teachers have done a terrible disservice to their poorer students by making reading a chore to be endured rather than a pleasure to be enjoyed.
I also think that reading is seen as too passive an activity by people who are very action oriented. Or maybe it is too solitary for the extremely extroverted. My son would probably fit into these last two categories. He proved the experts wrong who say you will teach a child to love reading if you read to them enough when they are young!
Someone once said that the man who doesn’t read is no better off than the man who can’t. How true! And how sad – such a person just does not know what he is missing!
Friday, August 18, 2006
Books
Yesterday in my government class, I read an excerpt from Lord of the Flies and then discussed the lesson it teaches us about anarchy. Like many people, I was forced to read the book in high school. It occurred to me how amazing it is that I still remember the book and its message so well some thirty-five years later!
Then last night I went to my monthly book club meeting. I started the club about four years ago. Members have come and gone, but at its core are about six middle-age ladies who share a deep love and appreciation of books. This month’s book was set in Israel. Of course, Israel has been very much in the news of late, and so the meeting became a discussion of Israeli history as it relates to current world events. I realized we were only able to discuss these things intelligently because we read so widely. I am currently reading Thomas Friedman’s From Beirut to Jerusalem, and another lady just finished Unveiling Islam. The two of us had much to contribute to the conversation.
I have always loved books. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother reading to me from the pages of my Childcraft Encyclopedia. I’ve had that set of books as long as I can remember, and its red volumes still sit in their place of honor on my living room book shelf I’ve taken good care of them, so I could probably get real money for them on eBay, but I know I’ll never part with them. Those books kindled my childhood imagination with their nursery rhymes and stories of distant times and faraway places. I learned life lessons and much about human nature from the fables in one volume. A volume filled with animal stories and facts inspired my lifelong love of animals. I still remember a picture of Crater Lake in a more advanced volume, and I was so excited to actually go there last year largely because of it. Another picture of a car driving through a tunnel in a giant redwood created my as-yet-unrealized dream of seeing those magnificent trees. I hope that one day, I’ll read to my grandchild from those treasured books.
My parents encouraged my love for reading and made sure that books were always available. My mother enrolled me in a book-of-the-month club, and I looked for each book to come in the mail with great anticipation. I read all the Newberry and Caldecott awards books thanks to the club. I still remember reading A Wrinkle in Time and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. My favorite school activity was “going to the library,” and I probably read most of the books in it. In the summer, the library came to me. We lived out in the country and seldom went into town, but the library sent the book mobile out to us. It was a small library on wheels that parked right in our yard. I looked forward to its arrival more than I did that of the Watson man, who sold candy out of the back of his station wagon. I would stay in the book mobile as long as they would let me and always checked out the maximum number of books allowed. Of course, I read them all long before it returned.
When my grandmother came to live with us, she would sometimes chide me for always having “my nose stuck in a book.” I guess she worried about my social development. Or maybe she just wanted my attention. Anyway, books were my friends. Books allowed me to travel in a way that real life did not. Books taught me about life.
In the fifth grade, I read Misty of Chincoteague and fell in love with horses. I read every book about horses I could get my hands on. I drew horses, I dreamed about horses, and even started writing my own book about horses. Living on a farm, we did, in fact, have horses. That interest finally faded, but then I got into mysteries and devoured the entire Nancy Drew series. When I was twelve, I read Gone with the Wind. Thus began my lifelong fascination with the Civil War. In high school, I was assigned to write a term paper on Adolph Hitler, and so I read The Third Reich. As I read about the horrors of the Holocaust, I learned about the evil that man is capable of, and I learned how easily people can be led astray by a madman.
Once an aunt came to visit my family, and, knowing I loved to read, she brought me a stack of books she had found while cleaning out the house of another relative who had died. She didn’t realize, and my mother never knew, that the books included some detective novels with some pretty steamy romance and rather explicit sexuality. I got a different kind of education – and guilty pleasure – from reading those books!
Other books have had a more postitive impact on my life. The Bible is at the top of that list as I’m sure it is for most practicing Christians. As a young teenager I was greatly influenced by Catherine Marshall’s Christy. The story of the young girl going to teach and witness to the poor Appalachian people instilled in me the desire to “make a difference” in the lives of others, and probably had much to do with me becoming a teacher. More recently, Newt Gingrich’s book, To Renew America, inspired me to teach history just as he did.
Other books that had an impact were Little Women, Animal Farm, Wuthering Heights, War and Remembrance, Exodus, and so many more. Neville’s On the Beach gave me my first glimpse of the Apocalypse. 1984 taught me and countless others to fear Big Brother.
to be continued…
Then last night I went to my monthly book club meeting. I started the club about four years ago. Members have come and gone, but at its core are about six middle-age ladies who share a deep love and appreciation of books. This month’s book was set in Israel. Of course, Israel has been very much in the news of late, and so the meeting became a discussion of Israeli history as it relates to current world events. I realized we were only able to discuss these things intelligently because we read so widely. I am currently reading Thomas Friedman’s From Beirut to Jerusalem, and another lady just finished Unveiling Islam. The two of us had much to contribute to the conversation.
I have always loved books. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother reading to me from the pages of my Childcraft Encyclopedia. I’ve had that set of books as long as I can remember, and its red volumes still sit in their place of honor on my living room book shelf I’ve taken good care of them, so I could probably get real money for them on eBay, but I know I’ll never part with them. Those books kindled my childhood imagination with their nursery rhymes and stories of distant times and faraway places. I learned life lessons and much about human nature from the fables in one volume. A volume filled with animal stories and facts inspired my lifelong love of animals. I still remember a picture of Crater Lake in a more advanced volume, and I was so excited to actually go there last year largely because of it. Another picture of a car driving through a tunnel in a giant redwood created my as-yet-unrealized dream of seeing those magnificent trees. I hope that one day, I’ll read to my grandchild from those treasured books.
My parents encouraged my love for reading and made sure that books were always available. My mother enrolled me in a book-of-the-month club, and I looked for each book to come in the mail with great anticipation. I read all the Newberry and Caldecott awards books thanks to the club. I still remember reading A Wrinkle in Time and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. My favorite school activity was “going to the library,” and I probably read most of the books in it. In the summer, the library came to me. We lived out in the country and seldom went into town, but the library sent the book mobile out to us. It was a small library on wheels that parked right in our yard. I looked forward to its arrival more than I did that of the Watson man, who sold candy out of the back of his station wagon. I would stay in the book mobile as long as they would let me and always checked out the maximum number of books allowed. Of course, I read them all long before it returned.
When my grandmother came to live with us, she would sometimes chide me for always having “my nose stuck in a book.” I guess she worried about my social development. Or maybe she just wanted my attention. Anyway, books were my friends. Books allowed me to travel in a way that real life did not. Books taught me about life.
In the fifth grade, I read Misty of Chincoteague and fell in love with horses. I read every book about horses I could get my hands on. I drew horses, I dreamed about horses, and even started writing my own book about horses. Living on a farm, we did, in fact, have horses. That interest finally faded, but then I got into mysteries and devoured the entire Nancy Drew series. When I was twelve, I read Gone with the Wind. Thus began my lifelong fascination with the Civil War. In high school, I was assigned to write a term paper on Adolph Hitler, and so I read The Third Reich. As I read about the horrors of the Holocaust, I learned about the evil that man is capable of, and I learned how easily people can be led astray by a madman.
Once an aunt came to visit my family, and, knowing I loved to read, she brought me a stack of books she had found while cleaning out the house of another relative who had died. She didn’t realize, and my mother never knew, that the books included some detective novels with some pretty steamy romance and rather explicit sexuality. I got a different kind of education – and guilty pleasure – from reading those books!
Other books have had a more postitive impact on my life. The Bible is at the top of that list as I’m sure it is for most practicing Christians. As a young teenager I was greatly influenced by Catherine Marshall’s Christy. The story of the young girl going to teach and witness to the poor Appalachian people instilled in me the desire to “make a difference” in the lives of others, and probably had much to do with me becoming a teacher. More recently, Newt Gingrich’s book, To Renew America, inspired me to teach history just as he did.
Other books that had an impact were Little Women, Animal Farm, Wuthering Heights, War and Remembrance, Exodus, and so many more. Neville’s On the Beach gave me my first glimpse of the Apocalypse. 1984 taught me and countless others to fear Big Brother.
to be continued…
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
First Day of School
The kids came back to school yesterday, and things went smoothly. I was glad to see them. Being around them keeps me young, except for the times they do or say things that make me realize they live in a different world that I don' know, don't understand, and don't really want to be a part of. Then the generation gap looms huge, but nothing like that happened yesterday. It was fun getting them to talk about their feelings concerning their senior year of high school. I think they're a good bunch of kids, but there are so many of them - 30, to be exact, and that makes them the largest class I've ever had. We were really packed into the room with all their backpacks covering the floor.
I had them fill out a questionnaire, and was heartened to learn that almost all of them attend church weekly. It's good to know that I can handle difficulties from a spiritual basis knowing that they will understand.
The worst part of the day was the heat. At 9:45, the room was already HOT! By the time class ended at 11:20, we were all sweating. For some reason, the air conditioning just does not reach that upstairs room. I felt like the students were very attentive considering how miserably hot they were.
I did not finish everything I had planned to do. The principal and senior counselor came in to talk to them and took up quite a bit of time. I took a lot of time myself to talk about my expectations and theirs for this class. I really wanted to set the mood for the year on the first day. As I said, these are good kids, but they have been together for years and are just too familiar with each other and the school. That translates into them feeling free to socialize at all times, and I wanted them to understand that I could not allow that during class. Meeting only twice a week, there just won't be time for it.
I didn't get to the Powerpoint presentation I had made on an introduction to government, but I did set it up with my laptop and the digital projector, and it worked! I'll use it on Thursday.
All in all, it felt good to be back in the classroom. I guess teaching is in my blood and always will be.
I had them fill out a questionnaire, and was heartened to learn that almost all of them attend church weekly. It's good to know that I can handle difficulties from a spiritual basis knowing that they will understand.
The worst part of the day was the heat. At 9:45, the room was already HOT! By the time class ended at 11:20, we were all sweating. For some reason, the air conditioning just does not reach that upstairs room. I felt like the students were very attentive considering how miserably hot they were.
I did not finish everything I had planned to do. The principal and senior counselor came in to talk to them and took up quite a bit of time. I took a lot of time myself to talk about my expectations and theirs for this class. I really wanted to set the mood for the year on the first day. As I said, these are good kids, but they have been together for years and are just too familiar with each other and the school. That translates into them feeling free to socialize at all times, and I wanted them to understand that I could not allow that during class. Meeting only twice a week, there just won't be time for it.
I didn't get to the Powerpoint presentation I had made on an introduction to government, but I did set it up with my laptop and the digital projector, and it worked! I'll use it on Thursday.
All in all, it felt good to be back in the classroom. I guess teaching is in my blood and always will be.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Religious Culture Shock
This weekend was like none that I have ever experienced. Doug and I spent seven hours sitting in Full Gospel church services, complete with tongue-speaking, healing (at least they prayed for it), and people falling out in the floor. An old Southern Baptist gal like me was pretty much out of my comfort zone! Last night we sat through four solid hours of preaching, praying, and singing, without a single break. As for the music, I thought our church had lively music, but we never get going like those folks did! And it was LOUD. I have to admit, though, I did enjoy the singing and Phil Driscoll blowing the shofar.
Normally, Doug and I would not go to this type of church, but Doug’s attendance was pretty much required, and I went along with him. The federal agency that Doug works for had financed the facilities for their ministry which provides food to people in need. This was done through one of President Bush’s faith-based initiatives. The services this weekend were in celebration of the grand opening of their new facilities. This is a very large ministry which shall go unnamed in this post, because while I do not agree with some of their thinking, I have the greatest respect for the ministry and the people who operate it, and I would not want anyone to think that I am denigrating them in any way. Anyway, Doug and other government officials were invited to attend the grand opening, and Doug was even on the program to say a few words last night.
The first night we attended a barbeque before the services. The food was great, and after we ate, we went outside to release hundreds of helium balloons with the name of the organization and information attached. While standing in the parking lot, tons of paper confetti in the shape of gold and white doves was shot off from on top of the roof, and it floated down all around us. The children were having a ball gathering up handfuls of confetti and throwing it on their parents.
Afterwards, we gathered in the auditorium and saw a video about the history of the ministry. Many accolades and standing ovations were given to those responsible for starting it all. Then the preaching started. I’ll say one thing for those folks; they can talk! They don’t need any notes, and they talk ninety miles a minute, nonstop, without having to think for a minute what to say next. There were many preachers there from all over the country, both male and female. In fact, I guess this was the first time I ever sat under the preaching of a woman! Many of these pastors were asked to come say a few words or offer a prayer. Here is a true thing – if ever one of these preachers gets hold of a microphone, he or she is incapable of NOT preaching a sermon! No one seemed mindful of the time or how many others were waiting for their turn on the program. A husband and wife preaching team were the keynote speakers for the night. He spoke first, and I really liked him and what he had to say. He talked a lot about unity among Christians of different denominations. I’ll say more about that later. Then his wife got up to talk – and talk, and talk, and talk. Her sermon turned into a healing service. She basically said that it is never God’s will for anyone to be sick or suffer pain, which I think is a ridiculous assertion that flies in the face of reality and scientific fact. If that were true, how would anyone ever die? Then she had people come down front, and she laid hands on them and commanded that cancers and other disease come out. Some of these folks then swooned and fell to the floor where deacons were waiting to catch them. Occasionally she would look up and begin speaking in tongues, but it seemed deliberate and did not strike me as a genuine, spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit. There was no interpretation as Paul commanded in the New Testament. Finally, the healing part of the service ended, and the best part of the evening took place. Jackie Valesquez, a well-known Christian artist, sang and gave her testimony. She was awesome. Then, after three hours, the service ended, and we went home for the night.
Last night, Doug spoke briefly near the beginning of the program and did very well. Many people spoke during the course of the evening, but one of the best was Dodie Olsteen, mother of the famous Joel Osteen of Houston , Texas. She was a delightful lady who gave an amazing testimony of God’s miraculously healing her of liver cancer over twenty-five years ago. She also asked people to come down front so she could pray for their healing. While I still have problems with the way it was done, I could not help but think … If I had gotten a bad report from the biopsy I had a week ago, would I have gone down front and asked her to pray for me? I might have.
A kindly older man named Len Mink sang and spoke, and I really liked him. All the people who spoke were talented speakers. One of the most impressive parts of the evening was when they showed a video of John Olsteen preaching. He is the father of Joel and is no longer living. Wow! He was an amazing preacher! His widow and daughter were watching from the seats in front of me, and I saw them crying.
Finally, an old man came up to give the closing prayer, but not until he, of course, preached a sermon. He spoke about helping the poor and finding our ministry. Once he stopped talking and seemed to stare right at me for the longest. When I told Doug later that I was pretty uncomfortable when he did that, Doug laughed and said, “He’s eighty-years-old; he was probably trying to remember what he was doing!” He finished his prayer and we left at 11:00 pm. There was much that was good about the evening, but my legs and back ached from sitting so long, and I was really sleepy.
So here is the bottom line: These are good people who are doing far more than I’ve ever done to help others. I don’t agree with their doctrine, but I admire them for what they do. I respect their sincerity and their obvious love of the Lord. They are full of joy, so they must be doing something right – many things, actually. They are meeting both physical and spiritual needs of people who find hope and love in their church. I say more power to them!
On the other hand, if they were the only representatives of Christianity, I know many people who would never come close enough to them or their church to ever see God. I'm thinking of people who feel God’s presence best in a quiet, more formal style of worship. Or people who are far more intellectual than emotional. That is why, I think, we have different denominations, because we are not all alike. We come to God with different personalities and different needs. One style of worship may be uplifting to me while it turns another person off cold. Our God is a great God who is able to reach out to all His people in many different ways!
Normally, Doug and I would not go to this type of church, but Doug’s attendance was pretty much required, and I went along with him. The federal agency that Doug works for had financed the facilities for their ministry which provides food to people in need. This was done through one of President Bush’s faith-based initiatives. The services this weekend were in celebration of the grand opening of their new facilities. This is a very large ministry which shall go unnamed in this post, because while I do not agree with some of their thinking, I have the greatest respect for the ministry and the people who operate it, and I would not want anyone to think that I am denigrating them in any way. Anyway, Doug and other government officials were invited to attend the grand opening, and Doug was even on the program to say a few words last night.
The first night we attended a barbeque before the services. The food was great, and after we ate, we went outside to release hundreds of helium balloons with the name of the organization and information attached. While standing in the parking lot, tons of paper confetti in the shape of gold and white doves was shot off from on top of the roof, and it floated down all around us. The children were having a ball gathering up handfuls of confetti and throwing it on their parents.
Afterwards, we gathered in the auditorium and saw a video about the history of the ministry. Many accolades and standing ovations were given to those responsible for starting it all. Then the preaching started. I’ll say one thing for those folks; they can talk! They don’t need any notes, and they talk ninety miles a minute, nonstop, without having to think for a minute what to say next. There were many preachers there from all over the country, both male and female. In fact, I guess this was the first time I ever sat under the preaching of a woman! Many of these pastors were asked to come say a few words or offer a prayer. Here is a true thing – if ever one of these preachers gets hold of a microphone, he or she is incapable of NOT preaching a sermon! No one seemed mindful of the time or how many others were waiting for their turn on the program. A husband and wife preaching team were the keynote speakers for the night. He spoke first, and I really liked him and what he had to say. He talked a lot about unity among Christians of different denominations. I’ll say more about that later. Then his wife got up to talk – and talk, and talk, and talk. Her sermon turned into a healing service. She basically said that it is never God’s will for anyone to be sick or suffer pain, which I think is a ridiculous assertion that flies in the face of reality and scientific fact. If that were true, how would anyone ever die? Then she had people come down front, and she laid hands on them and commanded that cancers and other disease come out. Some of these folks then swooned and fell to the floor where deacons were waiting to catch them. Occasionally she would look up and begin speaking in tongues, but it seemed deliberate and did not strike me as a genuine, spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit. There was no interpretation as Paul commanded in the New Testament. Finally, the healing part of the service ended, and the best part of the evening took place. Jackie Valesquez, a well-known Christian artist, sang and gave her testimony. She was awesome. Then, after three hours, the service ended, and we went home for the night.
Last night, Doug spoke briefly near the beginning of the program and did very well. Many people spoke during the course of the evening, but one of the best was Dodie Olsteen, mother of the famous Joel Osteen of Houston , Texas. She was a delightful lady who gave an amazing testimony of God’s miraculously healing her of liver cancer over twenty-five years ago. She also asked people to come down front so she could pray for their healing. While I still have problems with the way it was done, I could not help but think … If I had gotten a bad report from the biopsy I had a week ago, would I have gone down front and asked her to pray for me? I might have.
A kindly older man named Len Mink sang and spoke, and I really liked him. All the people who spoke were talented speakers. One of the most impressive parts of the evening was when they showed a video of John Olsteen preaching. He is the father of Joel and is no longer living. Wow! He was an amazing preacher! His widow and daughter were watching from the seats in front of me, and I saw them crying.
Finally, an old man came up to give the closing prayer, but not until he, of course, preached a sermon. He spoke about helping the poor and finding our ministry. Once he stopped talking and seemed to stare right at me for the longest. When I told Doug later that I was pretty uncomfortable when he did that, Doug laughed and said, “He’s eighty-years-old; he was probably trying to remember what he was doing!” He finished his prayer and we left at 11:00 pm. There was much that was good about the evening, but my legs and back ached from sitting so long, and I was really sleepy.
So here is the bottom line: These are good people who are doing far more than I’ve ever done to help others. I don’t agree with their doctrine, but I admire them for what they do. I respect their sincerity and their obvious love of the Lord. They are full of joy, so they must be doing something right – many things, actually. They are meeting both physical and spiritual needs of people who find hope and love in their church. I say more power to them!
On the other hand, if they were the only representatives of Christianity, I know many people who would never come close enough to them or their church to ever see God. I'm thinking of people who feel God’s presence best in a quiet, more formal style of worship. Or people who are far more intellectual than emotional. That is why, I think, we have different denominations, because we are not all alike. We come to God with different personalities and different needs. One style of worship may be uplifting to me while it turns another person off cold. Our God is a great God who is able to reach out to all His people in many different ways!
Friday, August 11, 2006
Going Back
Going Back
This was written on August 7th, but not published until later due to computer problems.
I’m going back to Westminster today, with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, I am excited, the way I’ve always been excited at the start of a new school year. One advantage teachers have over people in other occupations is that each fall we get a clean slate, a new class, and a chance to do it all better than we did the year before. I have often felt sorry for all the workers who just keep going in the same old routine for years on end with no fresh starts.
I’m looking forward to being with people more. I know I will enjoy the kids; they are so full of life and funny and sweet even though they can frustrate me to death at times. The people I work with are some of the best people God created. I’ve never experienced the “office politics” that plaque so many workers.
I couldn’t ask for a better schedule – just two mornings a week. I’m teaching my favorite class, which is government and economics, and that is the only class I have to keep up with.
I will finally have a little money to call my own again. I have definitely missed that! It won’t be much, but at least there will be some money in my pocket when I walk into a store or a restaurant, and I won’t feel guilty about spending it.
On the other hand, I have truly enjoyed having this time at home. As I have already explained in other posts, it seems providential that I was home this year in particular. I loved being able to do things that I otherwise would not have been able to do, or would have done under great stress. I have loved having the freedom of planning my own days, and I dread losing even a little of that freedom. I have experienced less stress this year than I ever have before, and it scares me to think of adding some back into my life. It was great not having to grade papers or think about lesson plans when I was at home, but now I will be doing that again, though on a smaller scale.
The worse part of going back, however, is that I do so with a slight sense of failure. I left teaching a year ago thinking that I was ready for a change in my life. I wanted to find something new to do, but I wasn’t sure what it would be. I hoped a year would be long enough for me to find it. I guess I’ve floundered some this past year, dabbling in many things but not focusing on any one activity. It’s not that I’ve lacked ideas. I came back from helping my parents all excited about becoming a professional organizer. I just didn’t know how to start. The same is true with the idea of interior decorating. I really don’t have the confidence to promote myself or take the risk of failing. I love artistic endeavors better than anything, but I’m not talented enough for painting to ever be more than a hobby. I realized that making crafts en masse to sell would quickly cease to be fun or creative. I love to write, but don’t really know where to go with that either. So I have ideas, but lack the know-how, energy, or confidence to make anything happen. Now I’m going back to what I know and what I do best. I haven’t given up entirely. This schedule should still leave time to explore other options if I choose to do so. Well, its time to get ready for work!
This was written on August 7th, but not published until later due to computer problems.
I’m going back to Westminster today, with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, I am excited, the way I’ve always been excited at the start of a new school year. One advantage teachers have over people in other occupations is that each fall we get a clean slate, a new class, and a chance to do it all better than we did the year before. I have often felt sorry for all the workers who just keep going in the same old routine for years on end with no fresh starts.
I’m looking forward to being with people more. I know I will enjoy the kids; they are so full of life and funny and sweet even though they can frustrate me to death at times. The people I work with are some of the best people God created. I’ve never experienced the “office politics” that plaque so many workers.
I couldn’t ask for a better schedule – just two mornings a week. I’m teaching my favorite class, which is government and economics, and that is the only class I have to keep up with.
I will finally have a little money to call my own again. I have definitely missed that! It won’t be much, but at least there will be some money in my pocket when I walk into a store or a restaurant, and I won’t feel guilty about spending it.
On the other hand, I have truly enjoyed having this time at home. As I have already explained in other posts, it seems providential that I was home this year in particular. I loved being able to do things that I otherwise would not have been able to do, or would have done under great stress. I have loved having the freedom of planning my own days, and I dread losing even a little of that freedom. I have experienced less stress this year than I ever have before, and it scares me to think of adding some back into my life. It was great not having to grade papers or think about lesson plans when I was at home, but now I will be doing that again, though on a smaller scale.
The worse part of going back, however, is that I do so with a slight sense of failure. I left teaching a year ago thinking that I was ready for a change in my life. I wanted to find something new to do, but I wasn’t sure what it would be. I hoped a year would be long enough for me to find it. I guess I’ve floundered some this past year, dabbling in many things but not focusing on any one activity. It’s not that I’ve lacked ideas. I came back from helping my parents all excited about becoming a professional organizer. I just didn’t know how to start. The same is true with the idea of interior decorating. I really don’t have the confidence to promote myself or take the risk of failing. I love artistic endeavors better than anything, but I’m not talented enough for painting to ever be more than a hobby. I realized that making crafts en masse to sell would quickly cease to be fun or creative. I love to write, but don’t really know where to go with that either. So I have ideas, but lack the know-how, energy, or confidence to make anything happen. Now I’m going back to what I know and what I do best. I haven’t given up entirely. This schedule should still leave time to explore other options if I choose to do so. Well, its time to get ready for work!
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