Cue massive sigh--of the good sort. The kind you're allowed when you actually have a moment to pause, glance around, and notice that the seasons have switched. The kind you can only authentically deliver when too much has squished itself inside of you for too long. Feel that? Your mental lungs are expanding.
After several weeks of "go-go-go", it feels awesome to have a few moments to process it all. I realize that though I didn't want it to happen, my job has again become my first priority. 90 % of my energy expends itself there. And as I have experienced previously, my resentment has resurfaced. I do like being a classroom teacher. I've found it to be both challenging and rewarding in many positive ways in my growth as a person. But I am increasingly disgusted with the way it consumes my hours. I don't believe I get enough back from it anymore to make it worth all it takes from me. Certainly I understand that at this point, it feels all-consuming because I have all new classes this year. But I've been a 1st year teacher somewhere 4 times in 8 years of teaching. And I truly never want to be one again. I don't even want to finish off this year as one because I find myself wishing away so much of this year of my life. And as I approach 30 this upcoming year, I really don't want to look back on all of my 20's as the decade I spent working my financially independent life away. I've learned in the past seven weeks of working with many part-times teachers that I wish I could find a way to support myself and teach part time. Truly, teaching groups of kids and connecting with them are two things that have enriched my life above and beyond almost anything else. But to prepare for that and to feel that I am doing the job of which I believe I am capable I'm finding is next to impossible right now. I merely skim the surface of who and what I want to be as a teacher. And that is just not acceptable to me. I can't do less than my best for more than a short period of time without beginning to tumble into the land of self-disappointment and disdain.
Fortunately, for this year at least, the five people I treasure the most in the world are within a 12-15 minute driving distance. The other 9.95 % of my life I get to spend with them, and right now, I am so thrilled to do so. I watched Thor with KC last night, I spent an hour or more helping Pedro on vocabulary the other night (incidentally, the exact same vocab. I'd taught J23 8th graders for the past 5 years), I've been to Cely's soccer games, and I've been able to see my parents several times a week for a few months now. After yearning to do just these things for a while, I am so grateful to get this time. I wonder how I survived without it for so long.
And the other .05%? Well, I'm really eager to find some folks with whom to become buddies. I do attend the YA group at St. Thomas right now, and I've enjoyed many of the people I've met there . . .but that's pretty much the extent of my relationship with them. With the exception of one guy, I've not done one single other activity with anyone from that group--although I think I'd like to hang out with at least a few of them. And that one more friendly fellow--well, both KC and I agree that while he's exceptionally nice, he's just not that much fun. We find nothing about which to converse, so unless we're just watching a movie and then calling it a night, it's not interesting to be together. My school, unfortunately, has not provided friendship revenue, either. The one guy near my age recently became engaged and really his schedule almost never connects with mine. And he's been pretty distant from the start. I felt awkward about being the two only young, single teachers at the school, so I never knew quite how to approach getting to know him without appearing as though I was man-hunting. And now it feels almost as though the window of opportunity has passed. And maybe there's another person, another path to take--but I'm not sure where or how. Thank goodness for KC's friends--and for her in general. I'd be so depressed socially if it weren't for her.
All-in-all, I'm reasonably glad to be here in TX again. Ascension at least seems like a place where I can grow as a teacher, and Amarillo is the place where I can reconnect or connect for the first time with all the members of my now-immediate family. But I'd be thrilled to find more time and space to be someone other than a teacher and more someone's regular friend.
Ah, Life. What a work in progress.
