Some Dreams Do Come True

Today for our gathering at the National Writing Project Summer Institute, we are to bring a draft of some kind of creative writing.  I came home last night and poured through a whole stack of notebooks, note cards, and miscellaneous typed pieces trying to find something I could grab on to and run with for my draft.  I guess you might say I was looking for some kind of inspiration.  I finally decided to wait until morning when I was rested to see what I could find.

When I turned on my computer this morning, I noticed a little notebook sitting on a shelf that I hadn't looked at yesterday.  Leafing through it I found exactly the kind of thing I was looking for.  This little notebook, which I called "Field Notes" was with me at all times from 2004 through 2006, and I recorded many little poems, moments, rants, and miscellaneous things to remember.  Several entries stood out to me, because of their relevance in my life today.

7/25/04
I am sitting in church the day before beginning my new vocation-profession-career.  I reflect on the years and the steps to get me here. I think of when I was distinctly told "Keep doing what you're doing.  All in God's time. God makes all things beautiful."  Today I pray that I will be passionately fulfilled by my work.  I pray that as a writer I will continue to grow and expand.  I pray that I will keep my promise to stay balanced and healthy.

Two out of three ain't bad.  I set out with the best of intentions.  I am fulfilled in my career.  The rest..uh, not so much.

The next item of interest was a meditative poem I wrote, revealing my feelings about a day spent at the National Writing Project Spring Conference on the campus of Florida Gulf Coast University (FGCU).  I took time after the conference to sit on the boardwalk and write.  Keep in mind, this was during my first year of teaching:

2/26/05
FGCU
late afternoon

I am seemingly alone here at the university.

feeling very inside myself and somewhat angry
and somewhat alone

that's okay
I want it this way
this place

feel removed from nature

hate that feeling

feeling removed from my own creative writing
trying to scroll back today
not sure I've been successful.

need a weekend to BE in nature
on the ground

need time to read what I want to read

losing touch
I know it

Today this boardwalk
these cypress
boat tail grackles
white-breasted squirrels

Today a little blue heron
poking around the edge of the pond

the lightest rain -- misty, falling

Today
I allow myself to feel anger I usually push down 
and ignore as my true passion and choice

Yet
anger -- loss

I look at this campus
recall literary theory
the study of literature
out of reach for me
at this time

so many obligations...

This day
FGCU
February 26th

A day I listened to poets
and passionate professors
activists
and other teachers

The pep talks

The IDEAS

I got rejuvenated

and now...the next wish...
time.

I went into this profession thinking I knew how difficult it was going to be.  And my first year, frankly, was hell on wheels, landing me in the hospital with crushing chest pains.  I vowed again at that time that I would maintain a healthy balance, take time for myself, yada yada yada.

If you are a teacher, I know you are nodding your head in recognition.

The reason this struck me so today is because all of this is exactly what I was saying to myself again this past year, my 9th year in the field.   I had grown in my profession to the point at which I was teaching very high-end classes, college level literature.  You'd think from the reflection above that it would have been ideal.  And honestly, I thought so for a long time.  I did love the probing analytical nature of the work, seeing poems open up before the students eyes, deep study of classic literature, having them reveal meaning I would have never seen, because of their own unique perspectives.  It should have been the perfect place for me.

But it wasn't.  I burned out.  Just as much of what is said above, I had no time for my own writing -- it had truly become a thing of the past in my mind.  I had no time for my own personal reading.  I had no time to hang out in nature, letting it inform me.  When I did get a break during the holidays, it took ten days for me to feel "normal" again.  That just isn't right.

 I had to make a choice.  I decided to walk away from those Advanced Placement and Honors and University of Cambridge classes I was teaching, and go back to middle school, the place where I began.  I realized that if I didn't make my dream a reality now, when would I do it?  In 2004, I stated my intention.  It is a constant struggle to make that vision a reality -- much harder than I ever imagined at the beginning. 

I started this blog because I want to be sure I'm writing every day, even when school begins again and I get busy.  I know that I have to make an effort to practice practice practice to make my vision a reality.

I participate in National Writing Project because I believe it is the single best professional development there is for a teacher.  I love being part of the process, and I think this year's Summer Institute will be the best ever.  Here is one more entry I found in my Field Notes:

4/23/05

Stacey, Heather, and I -- response leaders for NWP ISI (2012)

Today I am back on the boardwalk, where I sat two months ago.  On that day, I felt an underlying anger and I didn't know what it was. But now I think it was a breaking of resistance, and thank God for that.  Because soon I will be entering into a phase of my career and life that I believe will make a huge change for me: The National Writing Project.

I feel it will be a place that will nurture my writing, and I believe, too, it will be a place to help me grow in ways unimaginable. I simply cannot wait to arrive, to be invited to write, to share and be supported.  I need this now.  Thank you, God, for direction!

Some dreams do come true!