As a writer it is often hard to admit what I cannot write about. There is actually quite a bit. When you build fiction, you build characters and stories. You have this internal removal system where what you write is you but not you at the same time. It’s a glorious thing to tell the secrets of the people who live in your head. It’s not so easy to tell the secrets of the one who dreams them up.
I think as writers we use these characters as avatars to live loudly when we need to live quietly. To boldly explore places we may fear to tread. To tell our true desires, our fears and silent hopes and dreams. Writers often out live their far share of life. After all we are usually living at the very least 3 to 4 different lives every second every hour of every day. They have names that are our characters and while Chris may not be having a great day Fiona is making out with the man of her dreams. Charlie just got whisked out of the country and Claire just got even with her crappy ex.
I often love what I write about. I write about love, what is there not to love. But the things I’m truly passionate about get caught in my throat and my pen. Some days they overwhelm. I love education. I know it’s weird. Some people love fish or chocolate. But I love education like dudes love football. It makes me cry, weep, it stills my heart and takes away my breath. Its hard to place that kind of intense emotion into words.
I was going to lunch the other day and it just hit me so hard, like it does sometimes. I was thinking about my current job and how its all about money and nonsense and then I thought about the day when I would be a teacher. Watching someone learn from my efforts and my eyes welled with tears, my chest filled with this strong tight emotion. I could barely breathe, I lost my strength, my senses left me. There was no me, just the cause just teaching just learning. In that moment I understood what they mean when they say you have a calling for something. I fought it as people do, but it cannot be fought. It is like denying breathing, eating, sleeping, love. The only person that is truly harmed is me.
I have a wide variety of talents. Many will tell you I’m an amazing singer. Some will say I’m a good writer. Others will tell you of my grace, my friendship, my ability to love. You’ll find all manner of artistic pursuits in my arsenal. I love looms and weaving, wet clay and ceramics, watercolors, sports, stage performances and all else that places the human spirit in its best or worst light. It’s the drama of life but it all gravitates to one overall goal. Learning. It is everything we are and everything we do. We learn we adapt we adjust we move forward.
All that we have is due to education. And all that we can be will be at the hands of education. I see no finer purpose or pursuit in this world and it moves me beyond words to think that maybe one day someone, or many will be able to trace a definitive moment in their lives to my involvement, my support, my teaching, my undying faith in them. A commitment to education is a commitment to something beyond right and wrong. It is a commitment to understanding what we as humans are capable of. My dedication to education is a dedication to humanity and the amazing things we are can accomplish when we are led by will and faith.
