As I am taking a break from my domestic arts to prepare for classes, I am thinking about what I do and why I do it. I am thinking about why I worry about remembering the names of each one of my one hundred and forty four students, why I worry that fourteen weeks will not be enough, why I still don't believe it when I have to fill out the name of my occupation on the forms we grown ups must complete. I am a teacher. I don't really know why. I always have been I guess.
This poem is one of my favorites and I let Taylor Mali remind me often of one of the reasons why I do what I do.