Before leaving the classroom, people would ask me about me. I responded, I am a teacher. Yes, I was a husband, a parent, a friend, a…but almost always I would first say, a teacher. I loved the classroom, my daily world mingling with students’ minds and hearts. Where I learned as much as offered. Where I found compassion and confusion, delight and distraction, energy and inertia, curiosity and apathy…it was all there everyday.

What a privilege to have spent most of my teaching years with thirteen-year-olds who never failed to bring themselves into my classroom. Who let me know when I was on and when I was off. Where I could do and say what I wanted to, free to be the teacher I was becoming. A maverick some would say.

It was this me who stepped over the edges, ventured into unknown territories when others stayed in front of their students. Where teaching became teaching and learning. Where each day was new, with consistencies and surprises, insights and disappointments. I loved the classroom so much that I looked forward to Mondays.