I keep experimenting with the idea of starting a new blog, a teaching blog. There are a lot of teaching blogs out there.
And this one is mine.
It’s also my space to write about books and TV shows and Jesus and food and travel.
It’s almost time for a new school year, a very good time for a fresh start. But when I consider starting a teaching blog, I realize, everything is connected to everything. When I want to write about teaching, I don’t want to keep it just about teaching. I write to reflect and connect.
“All good things are wild and free” …and so am I.
It’s almost time to restart. The rhythm of being a teacher leads me to reexamine who I am, year after year. Am I an ambitious or laid back? Am I a rule follower or a free spirit? Do I want to stay on this path and master it, or would I be happier doing something radical and unexpected? Do I want to fit in or stand out? Am I smart, or am I passionate?
The answer comes, as it always does, when I stop asking and just sit quietly, listening.
“You don’t need a definition. You don’t need to create a permanent description and then adhere to it for a lifetime. Who are you today?”
Today, I am inspired by the phrase “master of my craft.” An administrator said it in a teacher training this week: “You are the experts; you are the masters of your craft.” Teaching (like many, many things) is certainly a craft, not science or art in isolation. I have no definitions that prove I’m using those three words accurately, so let me try to explain what I mean. A teacher cannot be only objective, or only subjective. An excellent teacher must balance hard data and raw instinct, direction and creativity.
Brain and heart.
Perhaps most difficult, an excellent teacher must know when to rely on which. And be certain not to neglect either one.
I want to be an excellent teacher. I want to master my craft. I want to exhaust both my mind and my heart with new and wonderful expansion and evolution.
Balance. It is chasing me down this year. I think I asked it to. I think I invited it in.