Release

I am currently re-watching Conan O'Brien's final episode of "The Tonight Show", which I have saved to my desktop indefinitely.

Watching this reminds me of where I was one year ago (and how much I identified, strangely enough, with what Conan was going through at the time - if you look closely, there are parallels).

The short version: I was unhappy. The long version: see my previous 100 blog entries.

What I've learned recently is that what I've been telling myself is wrong. I've been telling myself that I failed as a teacher when, in reality, quite the opposite is true. I was, for one year, a damn good teacher, the "best foreign language teacher" Mineral Springs Middle School has ever had. In fact, I am still a teacher (though sometimes I forget this).

Maybe it is sometimes easier to tell yourself you failed or that you left something unfinished. But what I have to remind myself is this: just because I didn't teach middle school for 30 years doesn't mean I didn't finish. Nor does it mean I failed. I would have failed myself, in fact, had I not pursued new opportunities, had I not explored other possibilities, had I not given some serious thought to my future - and been challenged by others along the way.

Today, I release myself from my belief that I failed as a teacher, that I wasted part of my life, and that Dr. Redmond is horribly disappointed. Today, I accept the truth that I was a successful novice teacher, that I learned more from that experience than I had learned in my 18 years as a student, and that DR. REDMOND UNDERSTANDS.

It's even possible that I like what I am doing now. Every new experience requires some adjustment period. I am adjusting. And on top of that, to fully enjoy something, you have to release yourself from the past, from the fear and guilt.

Today, I will start moving forward. I succeeded as a middle school teacher. Now it's time to leave that all behind so I can appreciate my success doing something else.