11:28 p.m. - September 02, 2004
But damn it, something's going on. Dare I say I'm being called back to the classroom? Can I admit that impression with the same evangelical zeal as freshly minted missionairies prior to their first assignment?
First there was the email from Savannah H. last week. Then running into Jeff at Sears. Then running into G. who asked me to make an appointment to see her to discuss my teaching English and specifically poetry at the college where she is now the department dean. Then tonight I ran into James and Madeline from the very first ASL course I taught at UC Santa Cruz, both of whom were insistent that I've had a tremendous impact on both their lives.
No, first was running into Alisa at the Baltimore airport and hearing someone yell Jason! Jason! from atop the escalator. Out of touch for years, I learned she has become an assistant principal at a high school in Seattle and nudge, nudge, would I be interested in teaching?
Often - too often? - the direct flies right over my head. Spec would say that, too, his rationale for hitting me to grab my attention. I have to swim in something before I recognize my environment has changed, if I notice at all. But this string of former students and colleagues - you call it serendipity, and I say serendipity strikes once, not three, four times in the span of weeks.
Wishful thinking? Spiritual fervor? I don't know and make no allusions of certainty. But I've noticed something's odd and it isn't displeasing nor unwelcome.
It is likely this return-to-the-classroom desire will abate after the back-to-school rush has subsided. If not, thinking about Daniel is enough to remind myself of why I left teaching in the first place.
Shit. I told myself not to think about that.