Back in the classroom. After a sabbatical of more than a decade I am teaching French for the fall term, and at the high school level.
It is a privilege, a delight, overwhelming. The last time I taught language we were still using black and white boards (despite the chalk dust am strongly partial to the former); now, there’s a smart board. My beloved spiral-bound attendance and grading book with all its little grids and boxes– it all happens online now. Assignments are posted online, and oral exercises can be sent via email.
But really, so much has not changed. The energy, the pure life, the worries and joys of the age group are not so different– they may grow up a bit faster now with the help of our culture and technology, but maybe not so much as we fear. Yes, the online thing and the phone thing are huge game changers– I was seeing that with my own son ten years ago. But there are crushes and heartbreak, dances and wardrobe worries, pressures of sports, music, academics, family and friends…plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.
And there’s the adults, teaching and watching over, a guardianship inflected by our own experiences back when we were 15, 16, 17. Balance of standing back and stepping in, guiding and ruling. Fine line as it has always been.
And oh, the setting: Quintessentially New England prep, straight out of central casting picture perfect. Makes me smile to step foot there. And I cannot imagine a better place for me to be right now for six or seven hours a day to get a full being shake up recharge than this high school Shangri-la.
Feels like a bit of grace pulled me there. Though will be a wild ride of time management, with fruit to pick and jelly to make, Dad’s affairs to manage, freelance projects trailing– the ones that I tried to steer to completion by end August, thinking I might get a few days away– nope. Not even an overnight away this summer. No rest for the weary (or the wicked, as a friend of mine from grad school learned it!)
S’all good. Grace comes in countless forms and sometimes in the form of more work rather than a vacation. To paraphrase Junot Díaz, just have to bend to it. Because, it feels like hope; it feels like grace.