Today I realized that quitting smoking was easier than I thought, provided I made a few lifestyle changes. First I learned to meditate to flush out anxiety and gain insight and clarity. Next I learned to exercise hard to expel anxiety and tempting thoughts of negativity. Then I began the emotional distancing of my teaching job.
It began with focusing on my own children as students and my students as other people's children. Then I looked back on all the original lessons and curricula I had created over the 3+ years of teaching in the greater Detroit area. Astonishing! I re- discovered that I was supremely dedicated to my profession in ways many other teachers around me were not. I looked at the steady decline of the classroom environment and meditated about the causes. How many could I have had an impact on? How many were unforeseen? How many more upheavals, fights, humiliations could I look forward to? And where would it eventually lead? An abyss jumped into my mind's eye. Basing this prediction on facts, I saw the sincerity with which my subconscious was trying to warn me. It was time to jump into an abyss of my choosing rather than be thrown into one chosen for me: unemployment, stigma, perhaps disability... I chose my own: unemployment but physically and mentally intact. Emotionally I would heal. And healing began with trying to flex my "I can do anything" muscle of change and start to quit smoking. I learned to love fresh air, and hate the escapism I had so often clung to with each cigarette. I learned to shop on a budget, in fact, my whole financial point of reference needed tuning. Drive-thrus no more. Planning ahead for snacks on the run. Look out for pre-packaging convenience. I was no longer "on-the-go", but "in-the-moment".
At times the boredom has been weighty. The time spent re-hashing my previous employment and education, my views, talents, and most polite of cover letter language led to renewal and some navel-gazing perhaps. I saw volumes of knowledge I had only scratched the surface of in my graduate studies. Hungry again, I fed on portions of high-density mental nutrition. New topics surfaced as a result. Language development, instructional practices, stages of literacy, "at-risk" student populations, Spanish, bilingual, migrant, adolescent reading comprehension, educational policy, Systemic Functional Linguistics, charter schools. Then the walks downtown connected this soul to a community that has always been background noise. I found a bit of my own tune within it. The art center, newspaper, cafe, schools, library. Transformation is what is occurring here. It isn't easy but it is necessary when faced with options such as those I faced. Though my healthcare is tenuous, I quit smoking and exercise more. Though our income has folded in half, I shop with coupons, plan and cook our dinners, save leftovers, horde spare change, and drive little. Monthly bills are gigantic but we are refinancing. It's true that in crisis is potential, and therefore hope. I am lucky I caught myself on the way to becoming an automaton teacher. My hope is to rebuild my capacity as a caring, committed and successful teacher. For now that mean substituting in districts that support their teachers, and for teachers who have grown professionally as caring, committed and successful teachers within those districts. There are financial worries, daily. But I chose this abyss, with the love and support of my family.
It began with focusing on my own children as students and my students as other people's children. Then I looked back on all the original lessons and curricula I had created over the 3+ years of teaching in the greater Detroit area. Astonishing! I re- discovered that I was supremely dedicated to my profession in ways many other teachers around me were not. I looked at the steady decline of the classroom environment and meditated about the causes. How many could I have had an impact on? How many were unforeseen? How many more upheavals, fights, humiliations could I look forward to? And where would it eventually lead? An abyss jumped into my mind's eye. Basing this prediction on facts, I saw the sincerity with which my subconscious was trying to warn me. It was time to jump into an abyss of my choosing rather than be thrown into one chosen for me: unemployment, stigma, perhaps disability... I chose my own: unemployment but physically and mentally intact. Emotionally I would heal. And healing began with trying to flex my "I can do anything" muscle of change and start to quit smoking. I learned to love fresh air, and hate the escapism I had so often clung to with each cigarette. I learned to shop on a budget, in fact, my whole financial point of reference needed tuning. Drive-thrus no more. Planning ahead for snacks on the run. Look out for pre-packaging convenience. I was no longer "on-the-go", but "in-the-moment".
At times the boredom has been weighty. The time spent re-hashing my previous employment and education, my views, talents, and most polite of cover letter language led to renewal and some navel-gazing perhaps. I saw volumes of knowledge I had only scratched the surface of in my graduate studies. Hungry again, I fed on portions of high-density mental nutrition. New topics surfaced as a result. Language development, instructional practices, stages of literacy, "at-risk" student populations, Spanish, bilingual, migrant, adolescent reading comprehension, educational policy, Systemic Functional Linguistics, charter schools. Then the walks downtown connected this soul to a community that has always been background noise. I found a bit of my own tune within it. The art center, newspaper, cafe, schools, library. Transformation is what is occurring here. It isn't easy but it is necessary when faced with options such as those I faced. Though my healthcare is tenuous, I quit smoking and exercise more. Though our income has folded in half, I shop with coupons, plan and cook our dinners, save leftovers, horde spare change, and drive little. Monthly bills are gigantic but we are refinancing. It's true that in crisis is potential, and therefore hope. I am lucky I caught myself on the way to becoming an automaton teacher. My hope is to rebuild my capacity as a caring, committed and successful teacher. For now that mean substituting in districts that support their teachers, and for teachers who have grown professionally as caring, committed and successful teachers within those districts. There are financial worries, daily. But I chose this abyss, with the love and support of my family.
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