Just a Teacher
In 24 hours, I will be just a teacher. There have been mixed reactions in my circles. Some people have asked me how I am feeling about becoming a teacher after serving as a supervisor for two years as if I have contracted a horrible disease. Others have expressed jealousy that I will be working with students, something all quality administrators secretly wish they could do. Overwhelmingly, people have supported my decision to go back to the classroom.
Let's take a look at why I am stoked to be just a teacher:
Birkenstocks. Seriously, plenty of teachers wear them. I know I am not alone. Metaphorically speaking, and also because I do have several pairs, I miss having my feet in those beauties. My arches were more supported and I had better alignment. My life had greater balance and my cup was always half full, even when I had no cup. I know it is hard to believe, but I believe I even smiled more. I also liked to take my Birks off and walk around on grass, sand, and dirt. I could reconnect immediately with what was important. I could lead from within my classroom or on a beach all because of my happy feet. The same shoes I wore on Wednesday worked on Saturdays because I was me. These might not be the shoes that bring you joy and that is OK. Sometimes what brings joy to a classroom might not be immediately identifiable on a rubric and that is OK. Sometimes it looks very different that we had imagined or what others expected. That is OK. We all need to remember what our feet feel like when the breeze hits our toes and let it go. Sometimes happy feet are more important than anything else.
I am not just a teacher. A title does not define me. It should not define you, either. What defines us is our work, our empathy, our light, and our legacy that lives on in all of the people we help. For me, I am starting with my feet. The rest will be OK.