A reflection: finding relevance

To me, retirement in the modern era, is a compromise between the career you leave behind and the pursuit of meaningfulness to fill one’s days.

And that, for me, is what makes Anna Mary “Grandma” Moses, an incredible story. Born in 1860, Grandma Moses didn’t begin to paint until 1938, when she reached the age of 78. (read her story on her Wikipedia page here).

When I was in junior high school, which at that time encompassed 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, our school’s art teacher would hold after school oil painting lessons. I remember being one of the students who participated in what I recall as weekly classes where we’d paint using tools I had never heard of before. Things like palette knives, colors such as alizarin crimson or yellow ochre - they were the ingredients of this magical experience. The first larger format painting I remember was of a Bird of Paradise plant painted on heavy cardboard; that painting is of course, long relegated to an incinerator.

After I retired, I made attempts to keep my former career - education - active. I was a flawed, but fairly adequate educator, a profession that was a second career for me. But when that career ended, there was a definite period of mourning followed by attempts to put my 30 years of knowledge and experience to use in a new way. Eventually though, I noticed that the profession was so changed, evolving from what I had known it to be to something different, and at times, unrecognizable to me.

I have been a problem solver for as long as I can remember. In teaching, when one strategem didn’t work, there were others to be tried. And so it has been with my own retirement. I needed to find a pursuit outside of education that would provide some sense of accomplishment, and this brings me back to Grandma Moses, my junior high art teacher, a long-ago foray into creating, and the present day.

In creating my own art, mainly botanical and mostly for personal notes and cards, I am exercising the less analytical parts of my brain that I honed during my career as an educator. I’ve found a pathway away from what I was to what I am becoming.

Choosing to learn watercolor techniques and trying to develop my own forms and design is to reach for something that is beyond where I am at this moment, but possible to attain sometime in the future. It makes me curious in the same manner that finding a pedagogy or teaching strategy used to when I was an educator.

The trait I admire in the story of Grandma Moses and her painting, is not necessarily her accomplishment in the art world. It is that, at age 78, she found a meaningful way to engage.

Retired & Expired & Letting Go

For the first time since 1974, I no longer hold a teaching license. I decided not to renew my licenses (I have three), and that is something I am discovering to be a source of some apprehension. I retired several years ago from active teaching, however, my identity for most of my life has been, and I imagine will continue to be, synonymous with education.

I've wanted to be a teacher since the second grade - which oddly was my favorite grade level to teach - and despite a few detours, that is what I've done with most of my working career. But like most things, it is time to officially bring that to a close; my time has passed and it is time to officially let some things go.

Throughout my years of teaching I experienced, as you might expect, good days and bad days, but, as with most who enter the field of education, I wouldn't have traded for another career. Working with children and families and learning from colleagues has been a rare privilege.

I was fortunate to re-enter education when teaching was, I think, at its best. I think it is difficult to describe that to people. There was a level of collegiality between administrators and teachers based upon mutual respect and trust. And it was that mutual respect and trust that made the hard work of education exceptionally rewarding. We worked hard, the children worked hard, we all learned. And still we had fun.

My principals were exacting and their expectations were high, yet I never felt that I couldn't try new ideas for reaching students. I trusted my administrators and colleagues, but more importantly, they trusted me.

As I move into this next phase of my life's story, I do know that I am not leaving education far behind. I have a granddaughter who will be entering school in the next few years, and thus, my interest in education is changing focus a bit.

The paper proclaiming my legitimacy as an educator may have expired, but there is still much to think about and speak up for. And that is what I will continue to do.

Time shifts

So when do you know it is time to quit? I still equivocate about whether this academic year should be my last or not. Right now I'm leaning toward all done.  We shall see what those who keep the records say. Sometimes what you think to be true, just is wishful thinking.At one point this fall, I discovered that a year of teaching I did in 1974 could be counted as a service year toward pension and retirement.  While the school district in which I worked claims they don't have records reaching back to my service time (3 schools, 3 towns, 12 grades and $6,600), the State of New Hampshire did. Hopefully that will be enough to prove I did what I've claimed to do. And will allow me to purchase back that year of service for more than I was paid during that one contract year.I'm not quite at that point when you know you're done. Often I have had to stop myself from thinking too far into the future. It's an odd feeling. When I put aside a unit of study, I've usually noted what I would change for the next year. This year, I make the notes, but with an asterisk... will there be another year to "fix" things?Maybe this post is a little dark and twisty. There's a dissonance to this school year because of many things. And jumping into a future of unknowns is among them. 

A Life on the "Outside"

Often I excuse my compulsive need to read and research all things educational with "I don't have a life." It is true that my child has long grown past needing me as a parent - I no longer do homework or nag to complete projects or carpool to sports. So I don't have obligations or promises to keep in that regard.So why don't I live a "normal" life - one where you leave things at work, not to worry over them until the next day?Teaching, believe it or not, is an insane profession. Piecing together the puzzle of why one child masters a topic while the other struggles - and what to do about that - is a riddle I not sure I'll ever master. Twenty-five years later, I continue to struggle with delivering lessons effectively, lessons that children enjoy and connect to other learning. That takes research. Thank goodness for the World-wide Web or I would need a cot set up in the local library.Lately, I've begun to wonder about what life will be like for me outside of teaching. I have two - or three if our investments tank - years left in the classroom before I feel financially secure enough to back away from a "regular job."I know I'd like to travel. I know I'd like to explore a book writing idea that Adrien and I have had on the back burner for several years. Throughout my life I have done something in the arts, I enjoy cooking and gardening and reading and knitting. But mostly what I've been for nearly half of my life is a teacher.I regret the lack of balance in my life. That my profession overwhelms and consumes me most days. But I am hopeful that I can find my place in the world - my life on the "outside".