One Joy

A beautiful and wonderful idea. Thank you Rachel @ Finding Joy

Today, I had the privilege of observing the class I'll be teaching next year.
This means I was able to skip one hour of the first grade extracurricular classes, sit in a corner, and take notes on the procedures used in the middle school English class. My class. Next year.
I cannot contain my excitement.

The people around me can't see to understand why I smile when I think about being trapped all day with 7th and 8th graders, trying to implant the beauty of words and garden understanding.  They see  talkative, hormone-enriched kids with more energy than they should possess. They see all of those research papers piled up over the weekend. I see young minds, young hearts yearning and searching as everything inside and outside is changing. I look at all of that, and my heart just sings.
This morning, I sat in that corner, scribbling doodles and notes, smiling at the curious "sneaky" glances, and just felt something in me light up. Oh, I haven't felt that light in years. That mind-pulsing, heart racing, uncontrollable grin as words are poured out, sifted, and the river stones shed gold. My British literature classes in college did this to me, lit me with the joy of discovery.  I would leave those rooms, my notebook filled with scribbles, my books dogeared, highlighted with messages in the corners, and, good golly, I could change the world. Bloody, that's what I was going to do: change it, change everything with words. Beautiful words. And I'd do it with pizzazz, darn it all.

They were reading e.e. cummings. If a good morning could get better, mr. cummings would do it. 
This is it. This is my place. It's not a big place. It's somewhere celebrities flock or newscasters feature. It will never be in a movie or a book. In fact, it's a place that will probably slip through entirely unnoticed. But it's my place. He's given me my place.
And I am so, so excited.