A new year. A new job. And more individuals infiltrating my goals and actions. I wouldn’t have thought that one short phrase would have such an impact on me. But in a meeting with my principal, he recounted a story of his son, as a young child. He created an image in my mind of his son, jumping on the couch. And when his father asked him, “What are you doing?” His son’s reply was, “Waiting on myself.” Profound? Profound.
There are many things that have had a restorative effect on me with the transition to a new school. The curricular possibilities, the program organization, the supplies and technology available, the students’ lack of disrespect and violence (comparatively) and so on. But perhaps the aspect that makes me feel most at home here is the dialogue of a few certain people here. The connection to the why’s of teaching. The presence of philosophies and beliefs…if only in a few. It existed where I came from, but the struggles became stifling and the support of belief was lost.
Remembering the genuine thread of education. Remaining a part of something positive and beautiful. It’s not easy to stay connected to this.
Waiting on myself. Waiting on ourselves. We need to be waiting, so maybe we can meet when we show up.
