I've felt like a mole the last few weekends. I have papers that I'm writing for my grad class, along with discussion posts, and all of the reading and research means that I'm spending a lot of time inside with my computer. This is, perhaps, not the most unpleasant way to pass the winter months, but I can see the promise of spring outside my window...and I want to go out and play.
The structure of my weekends has changed significantly since I started this blog two years ago. Then, I was a teacher 80% of the time. My weekends were full of grading papers, planning lessons, and other classroom tasks: things that are typical for most classroom teachers. Now, I'm still a teacher, but my "classroom" is so different. My time now is spent thinking and looking at learning from district level perspective, along with the learning I'm engaged in for my degree program.
I do wonder if those of us in Curriculum are some variation of freak. We've been exposed to thinking about issues on a much grander scale than a classroom teacher has time or headspace (or in some cases, care) for. It's like some kind of radiation poisoning where we're mutating into something that still looks like a teacher, but isn't. (Invasion of the Body Snatchers, anyone?) We see things other teachers don't get to see...and although we all will step back into the classroom at some point, we will never again be the same. Our understanding of the classroom has been fundamentally and irrevocably changed. This is not to imply that this makes us better teachers---I just think integration would be difficult. I don't regret stepping out of the classroom to take on a different role and let my career grow in a different direction. I see how valuable it is for teachers to have the time to be able to think and explore ideas...and I understand even better why teachers resist "outsiders" coming in to share expertise.
What will the next two years bring? I wish I knew. I'll have finished my EdD by then...science education will be even more in the public eye (according to a friend in the state office for education)...and I may well be itching to try my hand at something new. Right now, I think it's time to put away my computer for the day and get out in the great wide world for a bit. The 65-year old camellia outside my front door has at least 1000 blooms on it, reminding me that the future is full of promise. I just need to let it unfold.