In search of my identity
April 13, 2010
It’s Tuesday morning. 7:20 to be exact. I am waiting to see the girls off to school. Looking forward to getting back in the bed as soon as they get on the bus. I know I should be planning how I will attack the day and all the things I wantneed to get done, but some days I just don’t want to. Yesterday was one of those days. I am praying that it doesn’t turn into one of those weeks. You know the kind where you have literally zero productivity because there is something there, something in the way. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you know it’s there. I think I have figured out what ‘it’ is for me. I miss the classroom. I miss the interaction with the kids. But it goes a little deeper than that.
As I participate in discussions and interact with other teachers on Twitter, I am reminded of what I am missing. This little voice has been nagging me. Blame it on the questions on Facebook and Twitter: ‘Where are you teaching?’ or ’What are you teaching?’ I hesitate to respond. Technically speaking, I am not really a teacher, per se, or am I? I don’t really consider myself a homeschool teacher to my oldest, but instead just a parent doing what
As I participate in discussions and interact with other teachers on Twitter, I am reminded of what I am missing. This little voice has been nagging me. Blame it on the questions on Facebook and Twitter: ‘Where are you teaching?’ or ’What are you teaching?’ I hesitate to respond. Technically speaking, I am not really a teacher, per se, or am I? I don’t really consider myself a homeschool teacher to my oldest, but instead just a parent doing what
