Slice of Life: A well-timed email from a student

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Last weekend, I gave a talk about the power of teaching. Leading up to that talk, I thought a lot about it, even interviewing a past student, and I've continued thinking about the potential lasting impact of interactions I may have with students. 

Then, this morning I woke up to an email from S. She is a senior in high school, and I mentored her writing spirit for many years. Up until the pandemic, she was part of a group I met with monthly, supporting them as creative writers outside of school. By eighth grade, S. had self-published five (yes, five) novels through Amazon. Here's part of what she wrote:

I'm really grateful I got to be a part of such a fun and creative group and I'll never forget it! It's helped my writing but it's also helped me to grow as a person and is part of the reason why I'm now majoring in creative writing and wanting to go further with it. 

Could we organize a reunion of our writing group, she wanted to know. I've already responded that yes, of course we can find a time for the group to meet again and share plans.

It is starting to feel repetitive and cliché to write that teaching seems hard these days. Sitting in a coffee shop in a quiet peaceful beach town during my spring break, it seems a little easier. I have the space and time to reflect, to plan, to reset, and to organize thoughts and priorities for the final weeks of the school year. And now I have the reminder from a student that sometimes my work makes a difference and inspires writers. I'll let her know how much that means. 

All good things,

Slice of Life- It's a long way from Rodeo Drive!

 Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

I walked into the post office with my four boxes ready to send. I usually don't encounter a line, but I guess it was a popular time for buying stamps and sending packages. When I got to the window, I went through the routine:

Nope, no perishables. 

No aerosols, sprays, or flammables.

Yes, that shipping method is fine. 

"You didn't put a zip code on this one," the man said from behind the counter. 

I pulled up Julia's text. She had sent me her address last night so I could address her package. 

"90210," I read, saying it out loud. Wait, that was a familiar zip code. "That was a TV show," I said. 

Someone laughed from a place in the line behind me. 

"That's the zip code," I said, understanding the laugh and catching on to the joke that was sort of on me. "But this package is headed for Pennsylvania. Not Beverly Hills."

Turns out the zip code for Bryn Mawr is 19010. Julia's numbers were close, but her apartment is still a long way from Rodeo Drive. 

All good things,