Such lovely thoughts about being a teacher.
I recently did an exceptional Writing Course, every time I was addressed as Dear Writer, I squirmed. A good friend had a generous explanation, “A bird sings a melodious note to find a mate or to welcome a new day, imagine calling it a singer,” he said. I am no songbird; I have only a little while ago discovered a new joy of writing (and so the amateur narrative that you kindly bear with). I certainly don’t look up to myself as a writer.
A Teacher, now that’s another thing. I have been a teacher for sixteen years and it is an identity that I am privileged to admit.
When I closed school a year ago, there was much explanation to offer, to the children, to parents, to colleagues, to family and friends. In the many questions that were asked was lost the most valid one, “Why did I…
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