seasonal circus

some of my friends joke with me that if they had to spend a day doing what i do, that they'd probably want to kill themselves. be that as it may, it's an interesting idea to job-swap for 24 hours (and would i feel the same as they, i wonder?) right about today, teachers understand each other and are tired. those who aren't teachers are just jealous of "summer". since teaching is a seasonal profession, it has a "ramp up" (mid-august) and a ramp-down (anytime past may 20th). summers are lovely. what people may not realize is that when you clock in the beginning of september, you are "on"...teacher yes, but manager, counselor, educational style negotiator, personal organizer, team member, communications analyst, conflict mediator, recess guardian, problem-solver, nurse, generational expert, and all-around maid/handy person. even with all those nice breaks like three day weekends and christmas you still know deep down inside that it's not over until the lockers are cleaned out, the circus packs up and all the perfomers go home. and can i just say that while i feel i do important work and enjoy it that thank goodness it's not my identity...if it were, the let-down could lead to a feeling of purposelessness. (the last couple of weeks are kind of like shakespeare's "much ado about nothing": lots of activities and anxiety and tired energy and not much substance followed by this void--where did everybody go?!) thankfully, the flying trapeze to summer only fuels all of my other parts: the woman who wants to exercise every day (instead of deciding between that and/or showering and/or packing a healthy lunch...victory on the mornings they all happen!) the artist who wants to sketch lazily by fountains, and the friend who wants to host evening visits around the outdoor firepit and not worry about having a "bedtime". my morning "commute" can change to walking letters to the mailbox and "grading" can be checking the progress of plant rows in the garden. it's hardly instant, though. like any transition, there is an art to it--one i am barely starting to grasp after 8 years--and the relief is not instantaneous. you have to love every moment, i think and be present with whomever you're with at the time. putting so much stock in some certain day like the end of school or some exotic place thinking "then i'll be happy" is unlikely. (see also "the best exotic marigold hotel", you take yourself with you wherever you go, so make it a great time!) trying to practice this amid the screaming and popsicles and basketballs and overflowing trash bins and ice cream sundaes is another way of just enjoying the moment. so if you'd like to trade shoes for a day, please don't jump from the third floor afterwards, teaching is really quite delightful and our summers are only as happy as we make them; only as enjoyable as who we bring to the table. stay tuned for more happy...