Skip to main content

proffesional development

The other day I was in a different city.
Alone.
At at teaching conference.
Sure I know this city.
And sure I knew plenty of people in town.
And even a few at the conference.
But I found myself with a few empty hours
And I took off.

The conference had me a little panicked.
I used to go to the conference every year.
And came home with all kinds of new ideas, freebies, handouts and especially renewed excitement for what I was teaching.
This time.
It was really really crowded.
The first three workshops I tried to go to were full.
(and no you couldn’t sign up in advance)
I was frustrated and overwhelmed and a little panicked, instead of the excited I had been expecting. So I decided to take off until the next session which didn’t start for hours. Really, I was bolting.

The conference center was in a newly updated really hip part of town.
That usually I would want to explore.
But I kept walking.
For atleast a mile, probably two. Til I didn’t see anyone with obnoxious nametags any more. Taking in the city with every step.

And I found a book store.
And thought I’d found my spot.
But I was hungry and wanted more to eat than a cookie.
And I wasn’t sure I could resist the temptation.
So I kept moving until I saw the classic Starbucks logo.
But this Starbucks was small and dirty and a little sketchy. If that is even possible to imagine. There were bars on the window and I had to ask someone to unlock the bathroom for me. I ordered and spread out my papers to grade. And kept a close eye on my purse.
And looked around.
The man beside me was having long loud and very intense business conversations.
I looked briefly for a Bluetooth only to confirm what I predicted. That he was in fact talking to himself as he scribbled on post it after post and placed them orderly on his table.
I tried to smile and comment on something he had said to himself.
He quickly turned away and started to cover up his postits.
Another guy beside me had his laptop out and was very into his current world of warcraft game.
As in was giving himself an occasional peptalk and the rest of us the play by play.
Another shabbily dressed older man with a cane walked in.
There were some brief words with the barista.
She wasn’t particularly welcoming and asked him to move.
He threw his cane at her and sound some fabulous things that I can’t type here.
(although I guess that has never stopped me from using those words before).
I graded and sipped and listened.
I smiled and made eye contact.
And was finally comfortable.
And worried a little what this said about my life.
That I was happier in the middle of crazy starbucks than surrounded by my peers.
And the next day for lunch.
I had slightly less time and didn’t feel like spending money on coffee.
But I of course needed to escape the crazy that was the conference center.
So I bolted again.
And I found a bench.
A really great bench.
And read a really great book.

But each day I made my way back.
And my conference got better.
Especially the second day.
I did leave with a few new ideas, good handout, websites and some encouragement.
But most of all I came home with the peace of getting to wonder a city for a few hours.
Being alone.
Reading on park benches in the sun.
And a whole lot of fabulous time with some of my favorite people that I love (that is far too big and great and personal to fit into a blog post).
And none of that was in the workshop catalog at all.
But maybe the best thing for my soul.
And even my Monday.






Comments

Ann Kroeker said…
Sounds lovely, the bench, the book, the crazy Starbucks, and your awareness that you needed to get away.

I've been there, felt that, but not been bold enough to take that walk.

Popular posts from this blog

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev...

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa...

Of course I did.

Today I am supposed to be doing my last installment in five for ten and write about "yes". And this is not at all the post I intended. But life sometimes doesn't take the turns we want it to. And yesterday a teacher friend of mine called and told me about a memorial service for one of my former studetns and asked if maybe I would consider saying something. And keep in mind, that as a teacher, I pretty much speak to groups of people all day for a living. But. If I have to say something serious and heartfealt, even to an audience of one, I usually get all mumbly and stare at my shoes and forget what I was going to say. Even though I love this kid....and will miss him terribly I have a hard time imaging myslef on stage talking to an auditorium filled with grief stricken friends and family. I texted another friend about my reservations. And she knows all too well my mumbly shoe staring state. And she replied, "Did you say yes?" Did which I typed back. "of cour...