[Edited Writer's Notebook Reflections from December 1, 2015]
I sat in a room, coming near a year to date, when David asked, "What are you most excited for in your classroom when you have your very own?"
I knew my answer immediately. I wanted the Feminists' classic and repeated call - a space, a room, a desk, of my own.
I felt I was ready to create my own space. A classroom I could call home.
I've taught in five classrooms hence and none (including the one I currently occupy) has felt as the one ought to.
I sit here now, putting pen to paper (for I did write this all down before I typed it-the importance of drafting is not lost on me!) for the first real time in far too long to record my new ideal. The thing I never cherished while having it. I was a friend. A partner in crime. A Nick to meet me with an unabashed and unassuming smile. A Matt to bid me and a gaggle of students, "Good Day!" Someone to call me the ever-enduring "Larson" when we find ourselves far too excited about the changers we are about to make in our teaching, classroom, and selves.
The Smile.
The Quip.
The finish to an over-enthusiastic train of thought.
The perfectly placed real-life emoji.
The next Best idea.
I desire, no, need someone to feed my passions (no matter how random, ridiculous, or ridiculously random), partner with me in projects, and simply not judge my thoughts as they come. (After they come is fine, just not in the moment.)
When I started this job I described it to those who asked (and those who didn't) as, "Someone I could grab a beer with after work." I have that now. Yet I am unsatisfied. Empty in some way. I vital piece is still missing for me.
I genuinely love my job and the ever changing nature of education, the English language, and my students. I still, however, long for someone - student or teacher - to grab hold of. To help me not simply float, but swim toward the betterment of the educational community I happen to be a part of at the moment.
