procrastination were truly an art, my work would be hung in the same halls as
the masters. Hell, I can even
procrastinate by blogging about procrastination and post my blog a day late,
because, hey, a long weekend gave me the perfect excuse to, yup, you guessed
it–procrastinate. But that’s not
really this week’s topic, it just led to it.
since the end of last May when I started another story that I thought I’d never
finish, I’ve had a ready-made excuse to put off correcting my students’
work. I was writing. Or I was revising. Or I was reading about writing. These were important ventures. Yes, I
was putting myself first, but I was following my passion. Watch any good chick flick and you know
the climax comes when the woman throws caution to the wind and embraces her own
empowerment, thereby becoming the hero to herself and everyone around her.
Grimley: the majority of today’s “heroes” are not the self-less
givers, but the selfish go-getters who aren’t afraid to step on a few toes to
make it to the top. I’ve got big
feet for someone my height, but I’ve never been or wanted to be a
toe-smasher. I also realize,
though, that the Mother Teresa’s of the world are few and far between, and I’m
far from becoming one of them.
What I need is balance.
shouldn’t feel guilty about doing what I love, but wanting to share my passion
was why I went into teaching to begin with. I’d be full of it to tell you I became an educator to help
the needy students who can hardly string two words together. Granted they’ve become my favorite
kiddos to work with, but they weren’t my initial inspiration. I wanted to encourage those kids who
loved words and stories as much as I did.
I wanted to work with the articulate ones who could wow you with their
vocabulary and the weird ones who spent half their days lost in their own
imaginations. Because I was one of
those kids (I’ll let you guess which type in particular), and I had a few great
teachers who, along with my mom, encouraged me to write.
though I’d much rather be drafting my own ideas right now than correcting the
same punctuation mistakes in the dialogue of sixty-two students’ stories (a
lesson I really thought I pounded into them prior to this assignment!), I
realize, with a long overly-dramatic sigh, I must. Not for the fifty-something something students who will skip
right to the grade without looking at my marks, but for the two or three who
loved stringing together those words as much as I do. So that some day when they have to decide between a
practical major, like education, or one a little riskier, like art, music, or
creative writing, they won’t panic, because they won’t see it as a choice
between being responsible or following their passion. Maybe they’ll realize, earlier than I did, they can do
both–with a little balance, a little discipline, and a whole lot of love for
both their day job and their dream.
bring on the correcting. I’m
feeling the love.