When I last blogged in 2020, I was teaching high school German online and in person simultaneously during the continuing pandemic.
By the spring of 2021, it was clear to me that I needed to make a change, which sadly meant leaving the German program I had built up over the last 8 years. The original plan was to teach middle school math during a more normal school year, but the Delta variant and life circumstances intervened, and I'm watching this year of pandemic teaching from the sidelines.
When I told people I was taking the year off, they asked what I was doing with all my free time. I loved this Twitter post as an answer:
I've been loving having time to run, quilt, read, bake, sleep, and do crossword puzzles. But some days it takes most of my energy to get out of bed and take a shower.
I've been taking a Russian class, something I haven't done since 1994. I've forgotten a lot of the grammar, but a surprising amount of vocabulary is still in my long-term memory.
I've been going to lots of medical appointments. It turns out that you can get severe tennis elbow from too much typing while hybrid teaching. (Another reason I haven't blogged.) It also turns out that secondary trauma is a real thing, which isn't fixed by taking a few days off and some self-care.
I've been amazed by the understanding and compassion of people. I've been heartbroken by the cruelty and selfishness of people.
I've been grieving the (non-COVID) death of my father and the COVID deaths of more than 5 million people worldwide.
I've been slowly healing, and most importantly, I've been realizing this:
I am a teacher. Not by profession or job title, but by vocation, by calling. I love taking difficult topics and making them fun and understandable to students. This has always been me, and it isn't changed by where or if I'm working.
I don't know what comes next in my teaching career. If the pandemic has taught me anything, it's that the future is hard to predict. But I know I'll continue to be a teacher.