In fact, his song could very well become my next personal anthem. While my personal world retains some much needed and sacred consistency, it seems as though my professional world is headed for a tailspin.
Education is filled with transitory moments. Everything is temporary and changes at some point. The schedule. A teaching assignment. Your room assignment. Your students. Your colleagues. And I've always found the "change element" to be the refreshing part of my job. When you have a challenging student, there is hope for her to change. When you struggle with a particular class of students, there is hope for change. When you feel overwhelmed or overburdened by a particular task or assignment, there is always hope for change. For me, change has always represented the potential to improve, to grow, and to begin new opportunities.
The change on my horizon presents all of the things that I love about change: opportunities for renewal, growth, and improvement. I am eager to be teaching two new Shakespeare classes (and who wouldn't be???). I am excited to be moving to a new room next year. This is an excellent opportunity for me to simplify--to toss out all of the papers and "teachery" things that I have been hoarding for the past eight years. I am excited to cast away the various paper items that I find myself swimming in.
Sometimes change comes at a cost. Several beloved colleagues are retiring at the year's end. And while I am excited to see these veterans head off in new directions, I wonder what it will be like without them next year. That is the part of change that I do not like. The part where you cannot recreate the same sense of security. People--colleagues and kids--change all the time. And sometimes, you just cannot fill in the gaps. Our district will have a new superintendent this summer as well. To top it all off, our principal has just resigned. He has just decided that it is time to move on. And I cannot blame him. The past three years have worn him down and it's clear that his heart is in a classroom and not an office. I just know that I'll miss his vision, his leadership, and his friendship.
Now my colleagues all wonder what will become of our ship now that we're without a captain. I think that we have a pretty tough crew and that if we just keep on rowing towards the same island, we will all be fine. What troubles me is those who are already starting to defect, those who are giving in to negativity, and whining, and doubt. I hope to heck that there's no mutiny.
But then again, maybe Bob has a point.
"If your time to you is worth savin' / Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone / The times they are a-changin'."
I know how you feel I have two team mates leaving this year and I also wonder how our Special Ed. Team is going to change. We were all hired together and now there is only going to be two of us next year that remain. I like you wish them the best in their new endeavors but will miss them.
ReplyDeleteMaureen,
ReplyDeleteI think a lot of us can relate to your sense that the winds are changing. As we’re putting the finishing touches on the school year and the class of students that are before us, we’re thinking about subtle adjustments that we want to make next year to make things better and, like you, we’re saying good bye to retirees and colleagues who may be heading in a different direction. I recently realized that I don’t really have an aversion to change. I don’t love it and I don’t hate it. It’s just the way the universe is so I guess I’ve just accepted it.
I think it’s the nature of the beast in this profession where changes often happen all at once at the close of the year, as in your case. The unknown is the piece that would bother me. I’m pretty conservative and I like to have the big pieces in place, my team, my room, a trusted administration. Not knowing who will be at the helm of the school would be difficult for me. I’m certain you’ll persevere and put together another successful year no matter where the chips fall.
This is another well written and well thought out post. At least I think it’s well thought out. My sense is that you might be one of those fortunate few to whom writing comes naturally.
Thanks for your post!
Mike