Today was rough. Today was not rough due to teenagers. Rough is relegated to dealing with those over the age of twenty. Those folks can make the day rough. Those folks made today rough. It is often a challenge with a collection of large personalities all focused on moving children forward – the views and methods can be so different that it can turn into a tussel. Sometimes my dreams for what the future could be for the students is hard for me to put into words. I love and respect words but there are certainly times that they evade me.
I am not blaming others. I own my own ego. I own my shortcomings – but it does not make it easier. And wouldn’t you know – – just when the grumbles were gathering around me as I shoved my books and papers into my briefcase I received my apple.
Now I am not talking about the Honeycrisp, Golden Delicious, Mutsu, Topaz or the all too familiar Malus Domestica Gloster. It was none of those. My “apple” came in the form of a student who stopped by after school, stuck his head in my office, full of enthusiasm and offered my favorite words, “What if . . . “ Of course he was talking about his latest project and how time, space and some good ol’ creativity had sparked inside him and he was seeing the work in an entirely new way. Why can’t we move it here? Why does it have to stay like this? Why can’t you move and shuffle and rearrange the things that were never meant to move, shuffle or rearrange. I am not sure the way would actually work. I am not sure I don’t love it. It was so wonderful just to see this spark. And, if there is anyway that I had just a part in sparking this “What if . . “ then my grumbled day has been more than redeemed. It has been rewarded.