Despite teaching for almost ten years, I’m not certified. I have a BA in education and child study and have a long, long list of professional development courses under my belt, but after a while that starts to feel useless without the actual certification paperwork and licensing to back it up. It has taken me a considerable amount of time to discern my place in the realm of teaching and learning. I don’t neatly fit into prescribed curricula and predefined boxes, but I understand that to deconstruct and reinvent systems, I must first immerse myself within them.
I signed up for my Early Childhood Praxis exam this morning. I’d been putting it off for, well, years, but the time has come and I just need to suck it up and take a standardized test, despite my loathing of such evaluative modalities. I gave myself a short lead time to the at-home test, as I know myself, and while my concentration on anything has been minimal as of late, I know condensing the amount of time is most beneficial for my learning style. I just need to take the fucker and get on with things.
In other news, Sid will be returning home for his first visit since he left in June, a prospect that fills me with joy. He’s been thriving at his new school, and I’m hopeful that he’ll be back for good by late spring. I’ve refrained from dwelling too much on the specifics of his visit, focusing instead on maintaining the rhythm of his current life, which has been crucial for his growth. Our phone conversations reveal a young person maturing, displaying more rational and well-defined reasoning. It’s hard to determine whether this transformation is a natural progression of adolescence or a result of the extensive support he’s received over the past five months. It’s probably a harmonious blend of both. Every time we hang up the phone, I can’t help but smile, even if the conversation has been difficult. I miss him dearly but am also eager to witness the person he’s becoming.
Becoming has been a big theme in the last half of this year. I feel very much that each of us is on the cusp of something. After months of floating in chaos, our pieces are landing, slowly, and it’s like a new collage taking shape. While I’m not a fan of uncertainty, I’ve learned that living in the moment often requires embracing some ambiguity, exercising patience, trusting oneself and those around us, and finding a balance between what we can control and plan for, and those elements that demand time and flexibility.
A gentleness, I think.

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