Work. All my life, I have allowed it to define me.
As a student (even as a very young student), my work was to try to be the smartest kid in class. Let’s face it. I was a clumsy, homely child with thick glasses and a lazy eye. But school, I could do. And I did it well. It became my “thing” — so much so, that I decided never to leave.
And so now, decades later, I get in my car every morning and drive 45 minutes to another school, where I pour all my energy into the young lives and minds before me. I just want them to learn, so badly. To light up with new words, new ideas, new ways of thinking.
But today, I went too far. Snow had been falling all night. It was due to continue for hours. School buses were cancelled. Other teachers headed onto the streets and turned back because of the weather. And I kept going.
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