how my life is, it is good. Thank God daily for existence, for the miracle that is 130 sixth grade students. I feel shocked and honored and quiet about how much I truly enjoy teaching. I am a terrible, terrible planner; I do many things over and over incorrectly; my students are not perfect; I am not confident in my ability to teach these kids something they don’t know… but… I love teaching. I love the comfort that comes from standing in front of a room. I love high expectations. I love personal relationship.
While on lunch duty yesterday, I got to connect to two students. One girl who came off as so smug the first two days, who was so excited to tell me about how she’s going to be the first person in her family to graduate from high school. The other a boy who reads two books at a time, all the time.
Today I learned one of my students has 26 siblings. I watched the reading teacher cry as she talked about how much she cared about our kids. I have been put in a place that is so, so amazing, so beautiful, so genuine, so — I wish I was more in practice with quality writing, because I would try to articulate this feeling more. It grows from inside. It supercedes the frustration of my personal life, it melts my aching feet, it propels me when I run down Dumas streets.
Today Sarah, Nicolle and I rode 6 miles down a mostly desolate highway, past cotton fields and tiny abandoned houses, big machinery and farms. I remembered how to ride without hands for the first time in probably ten years. I remembered the stress of needing to plan, but still had the opportunity to feel the wind billowing my shirt, to press my feet on the pedals, to go miles down flat, flat Arkansas land.
I found out yesterday that I am moving out of THE PALACE soon. For circumstances beyond my control. But, as usual, I’ve been provided for. The house I was originally going to live in will be my home for the next two years. Two boys and two girls, I will move into balance the scales. Everything will work out.
Don’t send anything to Edwards Street, in other words! I’ll post pictures of THE PALACE before I say goodbye. Unfortunate, but as I told Nicolle, just another part of the story. I moved to Arkansas, I didn’t live in one place for more than three weeks for four months straight. We walk, we stumble, we walk again.