You know that feeling when you’re in your classroom, working with your kids, and it’s awesome? It’s a bit messy (okay, totally messy) and the kids are busy learning. It’s a Friday. It’s been a great week. Some kids succeeded beyond your expectations. The sun’s coming through the windows in just the right way, giving the room great lighting. You grab your phone to snap a photo for your blog. You look through the frame and realize how very much you love your job. It’s great, isn’t it? It’s safe. It’s fun. It’s predictable.
I’ve come to enjoy days like that. I’ve been teaching ten years. I like the safe little cocoon of my classroom. Where I know my curriculum and my kids. Where I can try new things, but feel safe that if I fail, nobody will even know. I can even blog about what works and even talk about risk-taking by sharing the successful parts. I am safe from the disagreement of others and from stepping outside of my comfort zone. I am in control of what to change and what not to change. I like my cocoon. But, eventually I realize one thing… this cocoon? There’s no room for growth in here. I could stay in here forever, but I remember in elementary science what happens to the caterpillars that never, uh, leave the cocoon… (cue the dramatic music).
So, it’s time to go. No matter what’s out there. No matter how much it makes me feel that sick-I’m-about-to-lose-my-breakfast feeling in the pit of my stomach. No matter who disagrees. No matter how big the mountain. No matter how cozy I am here in my cocoon. It’s time to embrace the fear. Not just say it, or make posters about, but actually do it.
It’s going to be a great school year… (gulp) or something like that.