A student of teaching

It was hot, it was humid, it was teaching at Chanticleer in an unpredictable spring, but those 15 Agnes Irwin girls were willing and far more than able—reeling themselves backward and forward in time, willing themselves to remember. 

The thing about teaching is you never know.  You prepare your prompts, you know your own heart, you know what you want to leave behind, but you do not know what will make a student vulnerable to the process.  I never teach the same thing twice.  I have become a student of teaching. 

It is 4:22 AM, dark.  I'm about to set off for the Big Apple where I will, at too long last, meet so many of you who have sustained me here.  Until then.

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