I was reading around as the library day wound down, and I stumbled upon this little piece on Arts and Letters Daily. (You didn’t think I found these little Internet nuggets on my own, did you?) I don’t have any major critiques of it, just a moment of gratitude to the folks who have led me towards teaching as a career and allowed me to keep at it. (Mary, that’s you.) The fact of the matter is that, because we work with the young, we teachers have, relatively speaking, some of the most humane schedules in America, and if we are willing to stand up to the pressures to become “productive” at the expense of other things, we ought to have plenty of time to think, to read books, to play, and to enjoy our families. I shouldn’t use plural pronouns. I have had time over the last few years to do all these things, so long as I’ve been willing to forgo the drive to be the best at everything. That’s not to take away from those who are in fact the best at everything; I’ve got nothing against any of you.
Now that’s not to say that I never work, but I do think that, even given the necessity for a side job and such, I’ve done well in things that don’t show up on bank statements or curricula vitarum. (If you’re reading this, Magister Lasater, I apologize if I botched that.) My hope, I suppose, is that I can get into full-time college teaching and achieve the balanced life that I’ve seen exemplified by folks like Jack Knowles, Lee and Pat Magness, Phil Kenneson, Craig Farmer, and all of the wonderful folks who taught me in Tennessee.