Back in the Stream

Thick and wide and slow and the river flows.  Peace descending gentle leaching tension, floating downstream on drifting limb.  We sit in trio on an herb garden patio, with a sweet cheerful waitress and the brush of a cooling late summer breeze.

I know why they pass out contracts in the spring.  If any of us collectively remembered the overwhelming exhaustion  of the first two or three weeks of school, the district would never get anyone back.  It's not really the sudden all day standing and moving or even the return of early morning have to be somewhere on time.  It's the constant, every moment "on" of being hyper aware of every movement of every student.  Are they following directions? Are they working on the assignment?  Are they focused on the lesson?  Do they understand my instructions or are they even aware that I've given any?

In two to three weeks, they'll be in the routine.  They'll know what to do and how to read the shorthand phrases and gestures that move us through the day.  It won't be the end of challenges.  They'll think up creative and covert ways of avoiding the struggle of learning, but they'll give me space to breathe.  As questions melt into habits, I can relax into the days and the joy of teaching; into of the flow of watching them grow.