Patience as a teacher and an author

Or the lack thereof

Being a teacher is a huge act of patience this year, and I’m floundering at it. I could discuss all the things I’m sure you’ve heard from family or friends who are teachers, or you’re a teacher yourself and YOU KNOW. *hug*

What I’ve realized I’m struggling with the most as a veteran high school English teacher with 24+ years of classroom experience is this:

The current state of education no longer matches my values.

I value reading.

I value books.

I value writing.

I value learning.

I value creativity.

I value respect.

I value work ethic.

I value critical thinking.

I value listening.

I value integrity.

These things are no longer respected by most students across the country. And maybe even some parents and administrators. Schools seem to only value technology, data, and compliance.

Then add AI to the mix. Did you know education is the number one target market for AI? Marketing works. The age group using the most generative AI by far— Gen Z, at around 70% (yep, the teenagers sitting in my classroom). It’s like they’ve been given Pandora’s box, and I’m supposed to convince them not to open it and circumvent the learning process.

*sigh*

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my Natchez crape myrtle this spring

At home, a Natchez crape myrtle tree that I bought on clearance at Lowe’s three years ago grows in my front yard.  When I bought it, it was only as tall as my thigh. I wanted something that would grow tall enough so when we look out our living room windows, it would block the view of the parking lot across the street. From pictures I saw online, I was also impressed by its potential fall foliage color.

Over time, I’ve limbed up the branches to slowly train its shape and give it space to breathe. Now it’s a little taller than I am. But each year its fall color was a huge disappointment. The leaves turned from a glossy green to shriveled brown and fell off.

When I started my garden, I made a promise to myself to remove things that weren’t bringing me joy. Several high maintenance perennials that needed too much staking didn’t make the cut and got the yank.

I wondered if it was our climate here in Massachusetts, and maybe I had settled for the wrong tree, maybe it was a dud and that’s why it was on clearance, and maybe it was time to replace it.

This spring, I said these thoughts aloud to my husband as he admired the white blooms on the tree. And he said, “After all the work you put in? After all that time?”

He had watched me nurture the tree, even helping me stake one branch to change its direction a bit.

So, I waited. I decided to give it another year, and if it didn’t perform, I’d find something else.

Lo and behold this autumn, its leaves have turned a vibrant red and burnt orange. Now I can’t wait for it to grow bigger and brighter.

Reader, why is it so hard to be patient?

I’m not talking about standing in a crowded line. I mean when you need to wait years to see progress.

I’ve been avoiding Substack because I am stuck in waiting mode with my literary agent, a major contract in the wings that I cannot legally discuss yet. I also have a new secret project that I can’t discuss. All of these things are up in the air, all of these things are amazing, and all of these things still might not happen.

I am someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, so it’s hard for me to write personal blogs about other things when I have so many amazing, possible things on my mind that I can’t discuss. If, I mean when, these things happen, I will definitely give you the play-by-play, but for now, I’m struggling to write posts because I want to share ALL THE THINGS and I can’t!

Until then, there’s my crape myrtle tree surviving another season and thriving because I didn’t give up too soon.

How many times have we heard of people who had almost given up after decades of hard work just when they were on the brink of a breakthrough? I feel like I’m in that in-between place. Writing for years after teaching high school all day. Writing during vacations. The balance was so hard, but I stuck with it anyway because I needed to respect my creative drive.

I feel so close to a possible breakthrough—

but…

not…

yet.

I wrote a Substack post last year, “Lessons in Patience,” where I reminded myself to live in the present and let things unfold in their own time. In it, I wrote that “having patience is letting go of control and letting change evolve.”

Ugh, fine.

Today, I’ll read a book in a comfy chair by the window and enjoy the view of the tree as it shows off its amazing colors.

I’m glad I waited. I’m glad I have people in my life reminding me that there are good things to wait for.

And then I will check my email again and again and again… :)