I had to move my car from one parking lot to another so for an efficient after school (or training rather) getaway. Teachers, you may feel me on this one. Anytime my students sit in class going about their student-y business without me tethered to them if feels eerie. You don't simply walk out of the building during school hours without your chickadees in tow from 7:57 to 2:37. And you most certainly don't have a moment to yourself. And this day I had 15 whole minutes to drive the two minute loop around the parking lot. I felt lost; buoyant maybe? I attend a lot of meetings and trainings, more than most teachers (I must be really stupid or something), and I still can't shake this feeling that I'm doing something scandalous when I breech that door. I feel like someone is going to grab me by the ID and haul me to the principal.
As I edged out onto the street, this rush came over me. It was this kind of pull straight from my guts. My heart raced. I don't mean metaphorically either. I mean I could feel it pick up speed right there in my throat. I couldn't look left to the school, my eyes locked on the road ahead and I was filled with this liquid excitement. What if I just went straight instead?
What if I just bailed my kids out of school, grabbed gas and Tony on the way out of town and just left? What if we quit our jobs and sold our house and packed up what we need and just did the nomad thing for a while? The journey would be our school and the communities we pass through would be our teachers. Education on the road! Learning on the fly! The kids would be fine with their life experiences and a little math tutoring on the side!
What if we didn't have a plan? or a mortgage? or a calendar?
Or what if we did? What if instead of setting out, we settled in? What if we made a plan and started a business so we could work from home? I could be mom and he could be pop to our own little ...I don't know what. It gets a little fuzzy here, doesn't it?
What would we do? What could we do?
And then I came to the red stop light. Poof. Reality and responsibility forced my hand to my left blinker.