It's hard for me to comprehend that for the last decade we've been building the programs to be what they are (with a two-year Covid survival strategy that still put young people and teachers at the center of the work).
This morning, however, I'm hitting the road to play thunderstorm dodgeball while listening to two books I downloaded from Audible. I absolutely love spending time in the Hulk listening to my favorite writers and eager to get the CNY time (albeit it, I don't want humidity...not wish swimming pools available...yet Doreen and Nikki's new pups are huge attractions for this trip's goals).
We're unearthing joy and putting our voice first as we explore next generation genres in our writer's notebooks (Next Generation Genres not pictured here, because they're in Julie's Subaru, picked up from Possible Futures).
Karal knows something is up because I'm filling up laundry baskets for travel and moving around the house preparing for departure. I love coming home to a clean, organized and ready-to-go house. Of course, last night I washed 20 beach pails for the summer programs (cleaned from last year). There's a crazy rumor being spread in my school about me being burned out, which is far from the truth. I am energized, enthusiastic, and willing to go to do work I'm passionate about and believe in. National Writing Project work is the saving grace to help recoup from the other nonsense I must endure as a faculty member.
I am looking forward to the rebirth.
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