School Dreams

Every summer for decades, it was the same. Teaching the Orff levels around the first two weeks of August, then the family gathering at the Lake Michigan cottage for the last two. And then the school year began again. 

 

In those two weeks before school started, the dreams about teaching school began. From teaching naked in front of the class to forgetting one’s lesson plan and so on, all the disasters were played out in the dream world so that they wouldn’t have to happen in the real world. That most mysterious of entities, the subconscious mind, was preparing me for the excitement, vulnerability, doubts and great faith characteristic of authentic teaching. 

 

Fast forward to now. Schools (including my own) have decided that it’s just fine to begin as early as August 1^st (can someone please explain WHY?!) and my own school has the teachers gathering today, barely two weeks into what was once a sacred summer vacation time. I’m now five years officially “retired” from the place I still call “my school” in the present tense. And yet, last night, I had one of those archetypal school dreams. So it seems that that deeper part of myself agrees with the surface part that I am forever a teacher in that community, whether I show up to teach in the music room or not. 

 

My daughter Talia is showing up today to begin her 16^th year at the SF School, as are my colleagues James and Sofia to begin their 33^rd and 29^th year respectively. Terry, the ex-head, is joining my wife Karen (ex-art teacher) and me here in the retired bliss of this Michigan cottage, happily not gathering around the table for a staff meeting, but for relaxed meals and games of cards. Karen and I just received some 12 thank-you cards from alum students whose kids are at the school with help from an alumni scholarship fund in our name (but not with our money!). So it’s no surprise that I feel part of this forever community. 

 

Yet there are Talia, James, Sofia and many others I know, about to put their shoulders to the enormous wheel of the next 175 or so school days to educate young children. And here I am, in my shorts about to take a bike ride and then plunge into the lake to swim. Of course, I have much teaching ahead of me as well, starting with three courses in China in about 10 days. But as I always tell folks who ask about retirement, “I like my schedule and I like my boss.” I have the freedom to decide where and when and how much I’ll teach. And hey, I paid my dues to join this particular club!

 

Not that my many years at school ever felt like a chore I rather would not have done. Of course, occasionally, but mostly an ongoing delight and pleasure. Even the staff meetings were fun for the first 30 years or so. Until administration grew exponentially and took over the show that we had always done ourselves, joyfully and collectively. My decision to retirement had nothing to do with being tired of teaching kids, as my post-retirement schedule makes clear. But it hurt my heart to lose that sense of community that we nurtured with great imagination, delight and friendship. The corporate model began creeping in without our consent and though there was, and still is, resistance from those who remember who we have been, the tension between the two was palpable. It was time to move on.

 

But my school dreams haven’t gotten the memo yet. Wonder if they'll keep visiting me in the week to come. Meanwhile, sending loving thoughts to all my beloved colleagues, the teachers I taught with and those who are new, to the kids at the SF School still there who I taught and kids who I’ve gotten to teach a bit when I subbed. Happy New Year!