The first week of summer break

My average 50- to-55-hour week with no weekends has come abruptly to an end. If there were no such thing as summer break, then the nation would have a real hard time finding teachers to put up with the politics, the administration, students, and -- thankfully not in my case -- parents on a year-round basis. The psychological abuses that we take from all sides are enough to make anyone "crazy" for wanting to be an educator; however, the job is a calling for those who want to make the world a better place, one young mind at a time (or, realistically, 100 minds per semester, 200 minds per year for me. For K-12 teachers, that number doubles. I have so much respect for them!). We are managers. We manage hundreds of people a year: the content that they learn; how they will best retain that content through differently-structured activities and lectures; behavioral issues (yes, even in college, this millenial generation thinks it can just "call my dad" if the professor is "being mean" [i.e. not giving in to the youths' bullying tactics for a grade they don't deserve]). This is the only job that requires one to speak the entire day, be "on" the entire day, catch the attention of listeners the entire day. Most people cringe at having to give a 10-15 minute presentation for class or for a meeting. I do an hour-and-fifteen minute presentation -- four of them -- back to back to back to back. This work is difficult and exhausting. I actually lose my voice at the beginning of each semester because I talk so much! Luckily for me, though, this work is also rewarding and fun. Most of my students are bright, respectful, kind. I look onto their faces and breathe a slight sigh of relief because I think that they will make a huge and positive impact on the planet. Most of them.

Now, though, it is sweet summer break. Unfortunately, I will be teaching summer school to gain much-needed funds to move across the country in August to begin a PhD program at Penn State. And that move is why I have started this blog: my husband Justin and I want to share our reflections and journeys with our loved ones, since we will be so far away. I thought I would begin now, in early summer, as I have been deeply reflective and sentimental lately about leaving California. I am a sixth-generation Californian, which is unheard of, and both sides of my family have a lot of history here. Now is a great time to begin a blog, for I am house sitting way out in the Santa Cruz mountains for three weeks, caring for a massive and beautiful property and home, two dogs and five cats, overlooking several beautiful views of the mountains:

East view off of the deck

Here is my therapy. Justin and Duke come up to spend time with me on the weekends, but mostly I am alone up here, and it feels so good on my heart. This place reminds me of my home -- I grew up in Pollock Pines, just west of South Lake Tahoe, in a large home on property overlooking nothing but forest. I had only five neighbors, all but one far enough away that you could barely see their homes through the trees. My childhood chores involved chopping and stacking wood in the summer and fall, and shoveling the long driveway of snow in the winter, among many more duties. My character was built on outside work and outside play, and this home that I am currently caring for brings me back there. The owners have bats living above the garage, and I sweep up their droppings and place them in a bucket for fertilizer for their land. They also compost and have a gorgeous garden. Four swarms of beautiful, gentle bees are kept here, and they make the sweetest honey. I walk the long, steep, winding driveway each day to also care for a few homeless kitties down the way. The watering and care that Justin and I do around the property takes a big chunk of the day, and it feels so good and right: this is the kind of work that humans should be doing; they shouldn't be stuck in an office all day. They should be out in the land building and maintaining life. 

Keeping Bees

The property is right down the road from Uvas Canyon County Park, an open space reserve full of beautiful walking trails. Justin and I have our morning walks there on the weekends. We'll bring the dogs today. I brought up my bicycle and look forward to some road biking on these winding roads. Although road biking always has its dangers, this space outside Morgan Hill is quite bike friendly, especially since Specialized has its headquarters just down the road. Most people who live around here are aware of us on the road. The hiking around the property and up the driveway give us extra exercise, as well. I'm hoping that the twelve pounds I gained applying to graduate school (meaning not having time to exercise!) will melt away with such work. 

Justin and I hiking around Uvas Canyon County Park

Being up here has allowed me to focus on me: on my future graduate career, on Justin's and my beautiful and healthy marriage, on our goals. Every day I spend hours studying, as I have been away from the field of socio- and applied linguistics for three years, teaching composition and developmental writing, instead. Though I am good at it and find it rewarding, that is not my passion. My passion lies in languages, language ideology and policy, as well as the construction of identity through language, language learning, and language teaching. Since I have been up here, I constantly read and write in my two other languages, Spanish and German, every day. I do hours of exercises and activities, and immerse myself in intellectual activity, activity that unfortunately writing instructors are robbed of throughout most of the year, as they must put aside their own reading and writing to read and grade the often half-assed, incoherent writing and thoughts of students. 

Justin and I have spent much time up here looking for housing and jobs in Pennsylvania. We have talked to a great many people and are anxious to get out there and get going! Justin leaves in late June; he has a sublease for the summer so that he can more easily find housing for us. He and his friend Curtis are road tripping out there, taking the 80 the entire way. My sister and I are roadtripping in early August, right after I finish summer school. We will take the 50 through our hometown and then through Ely, Nevada, which borders Utah and is where my grandfather grew up. We will then drive through Utah and Colorado (enjoying Grand Junction and Denver), up through Iowa to see a friend and then to Illinois, stopping to see a Cubs game at Wrigley Field. From Illinois, we will drive through Indiana and Ohio until we reach the other side of the 80 in State College, Pennsylvania. My sister will then fly back to Sacramento. 

As I end three years as a lecturer at San Jose State University, I have a lot of healing to do, which is another reason why being up here in the mountains right now feels so good. Although much of my experience was very good there, I also had a terrible time in other regards. Thankfully, the good outweighed the bad: I was surrounded by many outstanding colleagues who cared about their craft and their students and from whom I learned a tremendous amount about teaching and learning. A couple of older, tenured female faculty stood out as amazing mentors through my professional development and my application and admission process for graduate school. I formed some very dear and close friendships with several of the faculty and graduate students my age. My students were so cool! Gosh, I had great students. For the most part, they were beautiful young people, an inspiration to continue teaching at a university. 

Justin, Duke, Tango, and Twyla giving us a workout!

I won't discuss the negative times, as they aren't worth remembering, but as I heal from them, I don't need to mope for long before my incredible husband fills me with companionship, happiness, laughter, teases -- the strongest love imaginable. And while miserable people stalk, sulk, blame, talk shit, and plot, I just enjoy my day oblivious to the nonsense. Justin and I have something that such people do not have, nor ever will have: a future. And ours is bright. We are buying our first home together, planning for children, continuing our amazing and highly successful longboard skateboard company, moving to Pennsylvania! We are constantly improving our hearts and minds. We're a team, and this life is ours. We're in charge of it. Success, yes, beautiful success, be it personal or professional, is the best revenge. Let the petty be petty, for Justin and I have bigger fish to fry! Literally -- one of the homes we are looking at has a salmon stream running through it.