The title could refer to any number of changes that will occur in the near future for me. Let’s start with the professional level, shall we? Next year I will be returning to my first teaching discipline. I will be teaching sixth grade world cultures. This is an opportunity to really showcase my passion for history and geography and to try to instill a life lesson or two along the way by teaching about the peoples of the world and their ways of life. This opportunity presented itself when my current social studies colleague on my academic team took another position as a digital learning coach at two middle schools. When Bryan told me about his new position two weeks ago, I cried. I have enjoyed working with this young man who is a fellow believer. He hails from North Carolina and has a wonderful sense of humor. I was and am happy for him; I will miss him but wish him great success in this undertaking. Later that week, his teaching partner asked me if I would consider switching from language arts to social studies. Without missing a beat, I readily agreed. Lisa and I have wanted to work together in past years, yet we were never on the same academic team. She is one of the reasons why I am at my current campus. I approached my principal, and last week, my principal said yes. I have begun moving my personal items to my new classroom without taking over the decorating. I told my department about my change, and I will be getting my room cleared early next week. I will have new curriculum to absorb once I fulfill my duties as a first-time curriculum writer late next week.
The other major change will take place on Saturday when my only child, my son graduates from high school. When he tried on his cap and gown officially on Monday, my eyes watered. “It fits” was all I could manage to utter. Where the future will take my son I do not know; however, I do know that he has been taught right from wrong. I know that he knows he is loved, valued, and cherished. We have laughed at stupid inside jokes only the two of us get. He does not mind when I grab him and hug him for no good reason other than just to hug my son. Mornings are complete with him at the breakfast table reading his Bible with the blinds open for more sun. We have joked about the amount of protein “demanded” by his weightlifting coach. I have peered over his shoulder and marveled at his writing ability that has been honed and sharpened by his excellent English teachers, present company excluded. He loves reading ,history,music (country & western and jazz), exercise, and the outdoors. He plays tenor saxophone and knows to play “Naima” by John Coltrane when I am in a blue funk. That stupid brick I tried to put on his head failed to keep him smaller and halt the steps of time. Slow down just a bit more.