School Dreams

Old habits die hard. Every year for 45 years, most of them here at this cottage on Lake Michigan where we finished our summer before returning to teach, I would have dreams about school. The usual kind of kids not listening to me or being naked in front of the class— you teachers know what I mean. It was the psyche’s way of preparing for the next round and always arrived like clockwork a week or two before school started. 

 

So here I am, now six years retired, and I still sometimes have those dreams! Like the last two nights. I guess my subconscious didn’t get the memo. Or else realizes that I’m in no way retired and still teaching both kids and adults, though on my own terms now and on my own schedule. Last night’s dream was actually a great idea that I should have done in my recent Orff training course that I should note for next time. Coupled with the one about kids who refused to follow my directions. 

 

We think AI and such is so smart, but nothing beats the mystery of our own minds. Meanwhile, a word to all my fellow teachers about to start the year—may your dreams not come true!