On Teaching. On Parenting.
I got my classroom ready for summer last week. I stripped the walls. Moved all the books off the shelves and into the closet. Cleaned out my desk drawers. Packed away seven years' worth of stuff into about a dozen boxes of varying size. Locked the door. And walked away. But when the bell rings class into session at 7:55 A.M. on August 29th, 2016, I will be nowhere near Room 115. Adults like to ask children what they'd like to be when they grow up. I'm not sure why. I guess we think it's cute when they say things like, "I want to be the boss of the astronauts," or "a nurse like my mommy," or even "Pop-Tart designer," which, if I'm being honest, has always been and will always be my personal dream career. When Young Christy was asked what she'd like to be way back when, rest assured that the word teacher never crossed her lips. Ever. Sure, I'd play teacher with my sister sometimes, but it was really only because I liked to bo...