The Quintessential Talk of the Teacher in March

No more talk of winter.  I now turn my heart towards spring. 

I woke up today to a series of e-mails from best kindred hearts, and they all said the same thing.  Take a trip.  Take a breath.  Go away for a while.  I'm taking that advice, and listening to these friends, mostly because I've been living in molasses.  Not a difficult thing considering said previously overly discussed weather and the teaching life in February. 

I've avoided talk of it here, but it will be said once.  February is the lowest of the low in the cycle of teaching.  It doesn't translate to everyone else who has a job in February and feels the same way, but in our world, in this cycle of knowing kids, working with them, encouraging them, and sometimes just surviving amidst them,  this is where it's toughest.

Yesterday at lunch my friends and I talked about waking up again, and how you come alive in a different ways in different seasons.  (Such a needed conversation.)  I got out of Dodge a few years ago in March, and of course it was perfect.  I went to Connecticut, which is where my friends lived with their new baby.  I took a plane ride by myself and got caught up in interesting conversations with strangers.  I drove along roads that ran parallel to the sea.  I ate seafood and thought colonial things.  But mostly, I breathed. 



The other night I had dinner with these same friends, this time here in icy Minnesota.  Their little girl is two now and they are home to stay, but it is always a nice memory between us.  It was their first adventure away, back in the time of 'first married', and I was one of their visitors from home.  

This morning I spun the globe in my classroom, probably just to add some drama to the conversation.  Maybe it had to be done because sometimes talk of travel feels that prosaic.  This is, eventually, what everyone does.  

And I landed on Minnesota. 

I'm not lying to you at all.  After initial disgust, I decided that I guess it's a good thing.  This is an expression of the optimism I am choosing to choose.  I didn't take this to be a major sign anyway, because I tend to make decisions outside of the turn of a globe.  But again, the quintessential moment had to be had.  In consideration of the teacher's budget, especially one after a major car repair, yes, this is logical and somehow good.  And anyway, I know what I already want.  I want....

1.  A different place and some of my favorite people. 
2. Somewhere where I feel more anonymous, like I'm in someone else's world.  I want to talk to people who aren't teachers or parents of 14 year olds.  
3. I want space for book reading and walking to places and a different way to talk and be for a while.   

I don't know much more than that.  But I do know that I'm going somewhere.  Soon.  And it is going to be rather wonderful.