whew. this is a roller coaster.

The ups and downs of a possible bridge jumping are mind boggling!  What started so simply, grew wildly out of control, grew legs and turned itself into a whole new, much more interesting idea.  I’m ecstatic.  But.  I’m tired and a little out of control, too.

I might be addicted.

I’m pretty sure I am.

Is there a bridge jumping anonymous, for those of us determined to leave our meticulously-built, tight-rope-maintainted, comfortably-endurable lives in an effort to find the passion-filled one that we used to dream about.  I need that group.

Or maybe not.  Maybe my whole life has prepared me to jump, blindly, and trust that I will land on two feet (I’m pretty sure there’s no guarantee against bruises, scrapes, or broken bones, though).

Its a proven fact that people who exercise with a buddy are more likely to continue, so lets drum up some excitement about the what-ifs!  Help me out here … so what about you?  If you were going to join me on my bridge jumping extravaganza, what type of passion-filled life would soften the fall?

the possibilities are endless

“There is no living thing that isn’t inherently equipped with the skills and abilities it needs to secure it continued existence. … no lion or giraffe has ever had to go to trade school to learn what it needs to know to survive.” - Kimberly Seals-Allers 

I think too often we get caught up in doing what we are told to do, in following everyone else’s plan for success, and we forget that we have so much inside our selves.  Yesterday was turning point kind of day for me and I’ve decided to truly stop "measuring out my life in coffee spoons.”

And so for the great reveal.   I’ve decided to think seriously about selling my jellies and jams to people outside of my group of friends.  Can you feel my hands trembling thought the keyboard?

It’s one thing to imagine living out my dream of entrepreneurship in the shower and during my commute to and from my day jobS, while I weigh my purchases based on the predictable, bi-monthly paychecks.  And yet, I have always prided myself on the promise that I would stop teaching when the passion ceased to outweigh the drain.  That time has come.

I’ve dreamed of owning my own shop and being self-sufficient since I was a high school student myself.  I thrived on my Commercial Design and entrepreneurship classes, I was inspired by colors, words, tastes, and movement.  Today, a week before I turn 32, I am still dreaming and still inspired in these things.

In the next days and weeks, I will be making a concerted effort to move my life in the directions of my dreams.  I am learning, researching, connecting and praying.  I will be paring down on the unnecessary luxuries and exploring new possibilities.  And.  Through this blog, I will be taking you along for the ride. Buckle up!

more to life than this

There comes a time in everyone's life, when they realize that what they've been doing just isn't working anymore; that it is time to jump off of the safety bridge and hope to God that the river underneath is deep and wide.

That time came this morning.

When I started teaching, statistics warned that the "good ones" left the profession after five years; I recently heard that it has been dropped to four.  Thanks to a tremendously supportive department, principal, and school district, I've managed to make it into my ninth year.

It has been creeping in on me; I've known it was coming.

Every year, it gets a little bit more frustrating to see kids more worried about Friday than their futures.  To see students preach about their desire for high grades and graduation and then sleep through the class.  To see them rendered helpless by their ADD labels and lack of understanding.  And yet, these things are not the hardest part of this job.  The hardest part is not the behavior, the fighting, or the pregnancies.

The hardest part of this job is looking into the eyes of my students and knowing that they are products of their environment; that our society, the one we, adults,  have all had a contribution in building and actively help to sustain, has done this to them.  We have raised them and we have taught them and we have rewarded them.

But.

This isn't a post about what needs to change in education, though there is a lot.  This isn't a post about how kids are unempowered, uninspired, and unmotivated, though too many are.  This isn't even a post about how over-worked, under-appreciated, and scapegoated teachers are, we are not victims.

This is a post about my journey.  I knew what I was getting into when I graduated college armed with a degree in Education and started applying for teaching jobs.  My first full time job was at a drop-in youth center, my first teaching job an inner-city high school, my current is an alternative school.  I find "those" kids inspiring.  I find the challenges rewarding.  I find the objective worthwhile.

And yet, I am done.

I love what I've done for the last eight and half years.  I love the kids, each one for what they bring to the table.  I know that I make an impact and I hope that my student's lives are better because of something I've taught or the example I've set.  I've learned so much from my students, they have been tremendous teachers themselves.   My greatest wish for my students is that they realize the power inside of themselves, though them I have been able to realize mine.