My New Career

Image credit: Santa Fe Writers Project

“My son, Ryan, started kindergarten the year I retired from teaching. I took it as a sign, a coincidence worth paying attention to. I spent twelve years teaching, encouraging, caring for, and loving my students. As Ryan was about to embark on his own twelve-year public school career as a student, I hoped he would encounter teachers doing the same thing. I hoped my teaching career counted as a deposit in the good karma bank and that Ryan would be on the receiving end of the dividends.”

The paragraph above is an excerpt from my personal essay, “My New Career.”

And, I’m happy to say “My New Career” has recently been published in Santa Fe Writers Project Journal Issue 32/Spring 2025

You can click here to access the entire Issue.

And if you’re short on time, click here to be taken directly to my personal essay.

Though I do hope you’ll have a chance to read through the other pieces in the Issue. There are fiction and non-fiction works as well as poetry, and they all speak to the Journal’s theme of “Renewal.”

Teacher Appreciation

The first week of May is Teacher Appreciation Week, and this year I find myself becoming teary-eyed when I think back to my own days in the classroom. 

I taught elementary school for twelve years — kindergarten, fourth grade, and fifth grade. This year marked thirteen years since I retired due to a disability, which means the scales have tipped, and I have not been a teacher longer than I was a teacher. 

I’ll be honest, at the end, I wasn’t enjoying teaching as much as I used to. For one thing, the school culture changed after our principal, the woman who literally changed my life by hiring me, retired. 

Then, a teacher’s effectiveness became dependent on how well her students scored on standardized tests. Tests that, in my opinion, didn’t mean a whole lot. 

I measured my effectiveness in the kiddos that came back to visit. The parent who told me her son had never liked to read, until I was his teacher. The positive changes in student behavior I saw when students were in my class. The students who were not getting into fights on the schoolyard. The child who stopped throwing furniture. The child who stopped running out of class. And I like to think those changes were possible not just because of what I taught but how I taught. Because I hugged. Because I told “my kids” I loved them. (I often called my students “my kids.”) Because I gave my kids small gifts for December holidays. And Halloween. And Valentine’s Day. And the end of the school year. 

All these years later, I occasionally have former students reach out and email me photos and/or updates about their lives — as college students, spouses, parents. It’s truly a gift to know I had a positive impact on a young person’s life.

The books you see in these photos were gifts from my students. They are tokens of love, and I’ll treasure them always. (I did my best to hide last names.)

Please, consider this blog post a polite reminder to thank the teachers in your life — past and present. You don’t have to buy them a book or a gift card. Though you certainly can. (We give our son’s teachers gift cards.) A heartfelt thank you — in a note or an email or signed inside a book — are all lovely tokens of gratitude. 

Do you have a favorite teacher and/or school-related memory? Please feel free to share in the comments.

(Sidenote — I know there are teachers in our schools who seem like they don’t care. These teachers give the impression they’re only in that classroom for the paycheck. But those teachers are the minority. And I’m pretty sure people like that can be found in almost every job and career.)