I had a dream

Last night I was a teacher. I was in charge of about fifteen beautiful little children. I had a classroom and it was full of so many beautiful children's books. And inevitably there were parents hounding me down about - oh a number of things. I was my age too. They were asking me how long I'd been teaching and my response was "oh, I've been around for about a year." Smooth.

I have always thought about teaching. It seems natural. I remember a moment in Ms. Daignault's seventh grade math class where I had this flash of inspiration/desire to teach. And another time I was in charge of this station at a health something or other at the high school and a lady came up to me and said I had a gift and that I should go into teaching. And I love and adore kids.

I'm thinking that this was brought on my the fact that I saw some of my friend's pictures from her trip to kenya. They were in schools with the most beautiful african children. All my kids were white, but, no matter.

I've highly considered the teaching as a second language minor. I would love to teach. I would LOVE to teach.

I was thinking that I could help out ma belle-soeur in the winter in her classroom. It has been the most amazing thing; lately I've wanted to get involved. I want to join leadership groups and volunteer and engage in things that would technically fall under the "hey this would look great on a resume category." But I want to do it just because. It makes me feel so amazing to be coming round to this again. I feel like I'm settling and getting back to an old version of myself. It's amazing. I think it may have been slightly inspired by the lady at the Hollywood Bowl who stressed how great grad school is to Rachel and me. I feel like I can be like everyone and have plans and go far. Before I just put a thick black curtain on my future, and chucked it to the abyss of what inevitably will be. But now? Now this Rachel is going to do impressive things and become somebody fantastic. I'm still tellin' people that I'm undeclared, which I am, and sometimes I'm embarrassed, but I still have limitless potential, whereas they . . . do not.

Anyway, I felt inspired enough about this to write about it right after it happened and I woke up . . . and yes it is 1:00 in the afternoon. That's the way it goes.

photos via jonathon gilde [shelly's friend's] facebook