Two days ago on my way home from the cottage I took a detour to Boston on the T to meet a long-time teacher friend for dinner. She was in town to attend the national conference of NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English), one that I was involved in for many years back in my teaching days. It was wonderful to reconnect with so many friends and to hear them taking about students and teachers, not for common core standards and national testing.
As I sat at the Elementary Section gathering, it became clear to me how far away I was from my teaching days. The buzz of ideas that would have excited me, now made me only smile and think: “I had my turn; now the enthusiasm goes to the next generation.”
“What are you doing these days?” I was asked over and over again. I told about my divinity degree, my hospice work, my family, my cottage, and then,
“I’m writing!”
My response seemed more than satisfying and I wondered why. Then I got it. These teachers believed that writing began before kindergarten. They just saw me continuing the process.
As I sat at the Elementary Section gathering, it became clear to me how far away I was from my teaching days. The buzz of ideas that would have excited me, now made me only smile and think: “I had my turn; now the enthusiasm goes to the next generation.”
“What are you doing these days?” I was asked over and over again. I told about my divinity degree, my hospice work, my family, my cottage, and then,
“I’m writing!”
My response seemed more than satisfying and I wondered why. Then I got it. These teachers believed that writing began before kindergarten. They just saw me continuing the process.