Becoming a Student Again

Sometimes, as contrary as it may sound, you have to let go of what you love.   Sometimes it’s the only way to grow.  Sometimes it’s the only way to know.  Sometimes it’s the only way.  Sometimes, it just is.  

My first love is teaching.  I will never be able to articulate how important my students are to me.  One of my favorite aspects after graduating college has been my students.  I’ve been surrounded by outstanding friends, experiences, travels, and family, and my students have always made me laugh, think, appreciate, reflect, stay young, look back, look ahead, and live life.  You can easily look at any child and know that the entire world lies ahead of him or her. It reminds you that the entire world lies ahead of you as well, regardless of age.

With the world ahead of me, I started chasing my second love, public health.  As many of you know, I went to Kenya and had the experience of a lifetime. I ended up teaching Women’s Health and it led me down a path that did not have the option of turning back.  Last summer, I took the GRE and got into the number fifteen school in the nation for public health, the University of Illinois at Chicago.  The acceptance letter was bittersweet.  In the blink of an eye, the hours of studying, the nerve-wracking testing, and the tedious amount of time spent on the application had all joyously paid off.  The electric shock of happiness cooled quickly as I realized acceptance of this lifestyle meant leaving behind my current one.  The decision ping-ponged in my mind for months.  Could I leave something I loved so much?  What if I was making a mistake?  Would I regret leaving?  Would I regret staying?  Which did I love more?  Could I love both equally?  I was plagued by questions with no answers, and those are the worst questions that exist.  But, alas, I came to a realization.

The hardest choices aren’t the ones where you don’t know if the move you’re making is the ‘right’ one.  The hardest choices are the ones where you are leaving one love for another, so both choices are the ‘right’ one.  Just as some of us have left a lover to chase a possibility, put miles between friends to capture a wish, and have parted from family to tackle a dream, I am leaving teaching to chase, capture, and tackle a possibility... a wish... a dream.  So, with a heavy heart, I bid farewell to my first love, teaching, to pursue my other first love, public health.  Cheers, District 204.  It’s been a beautiful ride and an even more beautiful journey.

If Baseball Were Like School

Every time you got up to bat, you’d get at least a base hit because strike-outs wouldn’t exist.

The game would be modified according to each player’s needs, so if you didn’t hit well, at minimum the first baseman would be removed, but in essence, all outfielders could be removed to make each player feel successful.

If you never showed up for practice, you would still play well in the game because coaches can make any player successful.

If you hit a single, but you wanted a double, you’d get to re-bat until you achieved your goal.

If someone caught the ball you hit, you’d re-bat and re-bat until you were successful.

If you missed an easy catch, you’d be excused from it and no one would hold it against you.

If you were on the field, not paying attention, and missed a major play, we wouldn’t blame you, we’d blame the coach for not being good enough.

The good players would be rewarded by sitting on the bench unchallenged and the not-so-good players would get all of the coach’s attention.

If you mom or dad disagreed with the coach’s decision, your mom or dad would win instead of being ejected from the game.

If Baseball were like School, no one would play...