Letting Go of the Old Story

Two springs ago my district moved graduation to the Friday before the last week of classes, which meant that my seniors were done early, leaving me a few "free" hours during the last week of school. I used the bonus time to clean out 32 years of files, a job I'd been meaning to do for at least a decade. 

I learned a lot. 

I found my first evaluation, when my first principal observed a class 22-year-old me was teaching. It was hilarious to read his description of my lesson (it sounded awesome) and my teaching style (ah, to be young).

I discovered instructions and student samples from curriculum I developed in the 1990's based on OBE and cooperative, project learning. I was amazed at the ambitiousness of the projects. 

Mostly, I sorted through reams and reams of ephemera, lesson plans, and worksheets I created for SO MANY pieces of literature over the years. Many documents were thrown away with fingers crossed that I wouldn't need them ever again. Of course, docs I created in the past two decades are available online, but it was still hard to toss them into the recycling bin.

Note: A few docs were typed on a typewriter and copied via mimeograph. I saved those just to laugh at.

Ultimately, I went from 11 file drawers to 5, which means I really let go of a lot. It wasn't just the physical paper. It was all the accumulated work of a career. The time, the grind that makes up a life. 

By the time I closed the final file drawer, I was feeling some feels.

It was a valuable lesson in letting go. 

I have taught 30+ years of English 12 at my high school, years during which I refined and perfected lessons until I mostly defeated imposter syndrome to the point of pride. Also during this time period our district skipped the curriculum review process several times; as a result, the anthologies out of which we had been teach poetry, short stories, etc. were over 35 years old. 

The books were literally falling apart, and we couldn't even order used copies online, because there were none to be had. Finally our district purchased new curriculum (anthologies), and this past year it was "out with the old and in with the new."

One thing that helped me with the transition to the new curriculum was that experience of cleaning out the files the spring before.

I had let go of the story in my head that told me who I was as a teacher. I invented a new teacher from the ashes. 

The next new story?

The end of my teaching career is in sight, begging several questions: 

* As I transition away from the daily grind of teaching, how will my identity as a writer unfold?

* Is there a path to a full time career as a writer in my future?

* Moving forward, who will the new Ann be?