Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

If I were to write a book about my life (perhaps "pamphlet" is a better description of the product), I suspect that I would structure it in the traditional ways, utilizing chapters and some sort of pervading theme to hold it all together.

Even if I never take on the challenge of putting it all to paper, I can't deny that there have been certain times in my life when I have sensed the turning of the proverbial page.   Take this week, for instance, when I could practically hear the sound of a cosmic finger running across the top of  my life's current page and flipping it over to see what's next.

"What's Next"  is what I suspect will be the final chapter of my current "I work in a school" trajectory.  This May, I will wrap up my rather long chapter as part-time journalism teacher/part-time librarian and turn, instead, to the task of becoming a full-time school librarian.

A lifelong fencewalker ("Jane Fencewalker" could've been a minor, no doubt forgettable, character in the "Star Wars" saga), this move is a surprising leap for me, despite the fact that I've spent the last 12 or so years happily dangling my toes in the library life.  Let's be clear.  I already know that I love being a librarian.  I work with awesome, fun, talented people, which makes it an easy job to love.  It's closing the other door that has proved to be a transition.

Yesterday, I told my Newspaper and Yearbook staffs that this would be my last year as their adviser.  Given that I had awakened for the day at 2 a.m. with these thoughts swirling in my mind, it would be fair to say that I was a bit nervous about the announcement.  Certainly, I didn't think that the world would cease spinning or that there would be old-timey gnashing of teeth or beating of breasts.  No, I figured that the discomfort would mostly be mine, considering that I'd spent the last 29 (!) years carrying the "journalism" label with me to school each day.

My post-announcement transition was made vastly easier when one student--after digesting the news for maybe one or two seconds--immediately (and, frankly, a bit too enthusiastically) hollered out the name of a person she considered to be the perfect teacher to take my place. Oh, the hoopla and cheering that ensued!

It's true that the pop-culture bridges spanning between me and my students have become worn and weathered.  It's also true that I have been a little slow and clunky in transitioning my students' storytelling to the world of social media ("tweet" will forever be a bird word, if you ask me).  But I cannot tell you--in any accurate way, at least--how much I have enjoyed spending my work days with this group of enthusiastic, funny, curious students over the past 29 years.  And, frankly, while it might be downright delusional to still consider myself youthful and relevant, it is a bit sobering to realize that, beginning next August, I will be writing what I am certain is the last chapter of my life as an educator.

Here's hoping I write it well.