Why do I teach? What is my purpose? I have thoughts...

Brr.

It is 49 degrees, and of course, this is the "Fun Friday" at the pool to celebrate the end of swimming lessons. I'm pretty sure that "I must find out for myself" Holly will want to go, so we'll go. I just think she might be a little cold. So be it. I'll bring her sweatshirt. 

Other than that, it's a typical day. I, for one, would much rather it warmed up-- I still have not spent a lot of time on the deck. I need to. I'm feeling almost panicky about the start of school --too soon, too soon-- and I don't feel at all excited about anything much. I'm just dog-assed tired. 

I'm going into Year 40. 

Can you believe this? Forty years of getting ramped up to try to lead recalcitrant teenagers to the promised land of written and spoken literacy. And all they want to do is scroll Tik Tok, watch reels, and eat snacks. Boy, did I take a left turn at Albuquerque. 

Well, I'm not bad at my job. I can do the work. I just hate the resistance from so many kids. They often have the attitude of "why bother?" and frankly, I am starting to wonder. With AI and federal modeling of bullying, and the celebration of ignorance that is on display every single day-- yeah, they are already on track to be a cabinet member. 

And I love literature. And I love the complexity of human thought that is in there. I love writing, and all of the challenges that it brings. The fruits of the labor are so sweet when it all works. And they just do not give one damn about any of it, most of them anyhow. It's not just teen ignorance. Our national push for "easier, simpler, and who gives  a damn" is settling in like an anchor. Or an albatross around my neck. 

The current buzz phrase, "remember your why" irritates me so much. Why? I have bills to pay. Why? because my mother told me I had to get certified to teach because no one would ever pay me to read books. Why? because a literate populace used to be desirable. Why? I am wondering that myself, after reading the news, day in and day out. 

Even the national adoration of STEM seems compromised. The value placed on science has abruptly been erased by the powers that be. AI will do it all, right? Clean air, water, soil? Why, when there's money to be made. And is it even money, really? It's just numbers on spreadsheets that are manipulated by AI. Or crypto. Seriously, that is not even real. It's value lies in the value placed, but is not backed by anything solid (but then, neither is the standard money, but still...). 

Forty years. I'm tired. I still love literature and writing. And when I get to work, there will be kids who need what I have to offer. There always are a few. But I am really resentful of the way that the feds are making what I do seem pointless, without honor or value. I have to figure out a way to believe that what I do matters. That it can be interesting and exciting. That taking an actual pen in hand, applying it to paper, and letting words gush is cathartic and necessary, as necessary as breathing. 

As necessary as keeping a record of human failings, desires, goals, achievements, and loves. 

It used to be that kids who couldn't see it had a solid reason: their folks always worked in the mill or on the farm, and that was their destiny, too. Now, we have government officials and others who are crowing that with AI, no one will have to work. 

Well, how do we exist in a "post-employment society"-- as if that is something to be desired? And if we aren't working, what do we do with our time? (That is, if we aren't starving in a ditch somewhere.) 

Read. Write. Think, dream, create. 

But we can't do those things if we have no record of what came before, of what others over the millennia have had to say about the struggles inherent in being human. 

So there. That's why I'm going to work. 

Have a good day, friends. Read something challenging. Draw. Paint. Sing. Dance. We are depending on you. 

C