My former teaching colleagues returned to work this week. At 7 a.m. this morning, I am walking with a cup of coffee to the mailbox, in my jammies. Instead of showering and prepping to leave the house by 5:30 a.m. for the hour drive into Nashville, I have written for 2 hours already today, contentedly. I loved, loved, loved my work as an educator, but I do not wish I were returning. I was exhausted. The emotional and physical intensity that teachers expend is infinite. It was time for younger energy.
Children are magic for me,. I hope to find other outlets to help them once, if ever, this could-have-been-prevented extension of the pandemic is over.
My gifts as an English teacher were to relate to the children on their level, to inspire the joy of writing, and to encourage creativity.
I worked at a private school where individuality was encouraged at all levels and I thrived there.
Again, magic:

national novel writing month projects 
proud to protest with my students 
peer editing 
“Pearl GIrl,”a new persona weekly during virtual learning 
guess who? 
Can you say “Halloween?” 
research writing 
always reading! 
pet show fundraiser 
pure joy 
fantasy kingdoms 
created after reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH 
sharing with parents! 
writing in the dark 


engrossed in writing 
canned book reports 

Monthly writers’ group 
journaling 

bus broke down–replacemen!! 
.Reflection: Our award winnng civil rights experience takes us to LIttle Rock. 


Sure missing that Mrs godwin magic this year, but so happy for you. I hope things get to a safer place and you can come visit soon