Alas, the answer to that question is, "Not yet, little lady." After a 25-year career in education, I have learned more from my students than they have learned from me. And the exhilaration that comes with teaching has kept me young and vibrant for many years. Laughing with (and sometimes at) young people is such fun. Sharing ideas and music, opening doors to new ideas and thinking, and hearing their personal stories all serve to feed my soul. . . The body I am stuck with responds otherwise. The harder I work, the less likely I will be able to do so. The more I strive to be organized, the less I am able to accomplish. And no matter how even keeled I pride myself in being, I've become a moody teacher. ("Is she in a good mood or a bad mood today?") This, in itself, is a form of academic terrorism -- keeping the students on edge. Mrs. Glander did it to me and my cronies in the 60s. She looked like Clarence the Angel (It's a Wonderful Life) but acted like Norman Schwarzkof, which kept me on my best behavior. I once saw her explode and then yell at poor Judy Bond, "You STUPID, STUPID girl!" I've never called a student stupid or lazy. I don't tolerate others doing so either. But I have my own ways of maintaining decorum within the four walls of my classroom. Details to come in a future post.
If I could retire today, I would. The stress is exhausting and has led to chronic illnesses. I remember a long time ago when I had ONE chronic illness. Now there are more than a few, so I just pray to make it through each week. On occasion, that prayer is said at noon. "Help me have the strength to make it to the end of the day." I wish I were kidding or exaggerating. This post is not intended as a pity plea, but as an expose on how professional burnout really affects one.
I've lost interest in doing anything that requires physical effort. Of course, I DO a lot of things that require physical effort, but I'm just not interested in them. I want to conserve every ounce of energy so that I will have enough left at the end of the school year to enjoy time with my family -- especially my grandchildren. They are so special, and I wouldn't want them to see me this way. It would be a pity if they interpreted my lethargy as lack of interest in them. They are all I'm really interested in at this point in life. After serving many people over the years, my body is begging me to stop. My sweet husband is drumming his fingers, waiting for me to do what took him a decade to do -- RETIRE. That will be a wonderful day. (too tired to write any more at this time)
Growing older isn't for sissies, my Grandma used to say. In fact, she said it so often my mother embroidered it on a pillow for her at one point. I used to look at my Grandma and wonder what she did with all that time in the day, but as I grew up I came to appreciate the heroism of getting things done in a body that has ceased to hurry. She quilted magnificently, but each stitch came with a price. She cooked brilliantly, but as I read your post I realized cooking for us when we visited her was probably the thing she conserved her energy for. Which makes me love the memories all the more. Fresh courage take, my dear friend. Small deeds done are better than great deeds planned. Keep doing the small, simple, elegant things and leave the rest for another day.
ReplyDeleteYou continue to inspire me with your honest dialogue.
ReplyDeleteLove reading your posts.