I’m going to start with the happy first. I don’t want to start with the sad or I’ll write two lines and stop.
It’s been too long since I’ve been here! I’ve been writing in my private journal and writing papers. Lots of papers. I haven’t written papers, well since last semester, but honestly since 1994 when I finished my thesis! And I get to do that again. I think I must be mad, barking mad.
So yes, did I mention I’m back in graduate school? Apparently one master’s degree wasn’t enough. I’ve finished one semester, I have 2 more to go. It’s an accelerated program, you get your degree and lose your mind faster than you would normally. I am really enjoying it, it’s fantastic to be in school, as hard as it is to be graded again I love having my mind moving around a different track–one that is familiar enough but still novel. Grades so far are good too and my praxis score was excellent. I still have to take the essay portion and pedagogy. Strangely I’m more worried about the former than the latter. I have to start re-reading a lot of books.
I’ve got my first rotation assignment too and I couldn’t be more pleased. I really love writing (as a few of you know who have been around since I started the first incarnation of this blog in in 1998) and I get to be a part of a writing workshop classroom. My mentor is beyond cool. Yes I should probably upgrade my vocabulary and start sounding more like the adult I am, but I feel giddy, about like I’m 25 again. I’m just excited about what I’m going to learn and strangely about how difficult it is going to be. It’s grand to be challenged again. I don’t look forward to falling on my face, as I know I will, but do anticipate victories minor and major.
It is odd being back in my old junior high. I’ve been gone from Fayetteville for so long and back only a little while really and to find ghosts still around a corner here and there is surprising, a little sad and strangely soothing. The ghosts mean I did exist here and the fact that they are so dim, so very easy to see through, barely wisps means that the hurt of that time has faded. The fear and insecurity and yes even memories of the cruelty of those years is a memory now and one that doesn’t hurt to touch. I can take it out and examine it, not quite as a treasure from a long ago buried time capsule, but nearly so, nearly so.
Bean has gone to camp this summer and the difference is that she’s had to. Mommy is no longer around 24/7 but has other obligations now. This of all things, including facing those teenage ghosts, has been the hardest thing of all. Not starting back into school so many years after getting my masters, not trying on a new career path, not even making myself more extroverted. The hardest thing has been not being able to drop everything and run off on an adventure with Bean. When she was bullied by some horrid nine year olds (and the language! was! apalling!) for a time this summer (yes we dealt with that swift and sure–what happened to me WILL NOT happen to her) my guilt knew no bounds. When she jumped on me and said “mommy I need some quality and quanitity time right now,” I laughed and felt a bit sad. She’s adapted very very well. She’s a social biscuit, much moreso than her father or I am, but it is hard to let go of the days of being everything to her. I want to slow time so much but each day brings something remarkable from her so I don’t pull out my wand and make the world stop spinning.
There’s more coming I hope more frequently. I want to keep a better journal of this aventure so that when I really am a grown up and have my own classroom I can remember the road that got me there.
And here’s a picture from the middle of the last semester. My hair needs help, big help in this Arkansas humidity. Of course Haru’s fur is flawless.
