I finished my dissertation yesterday. Now it's just a matter of completing forms and securing signatures. It is the end of a particular era in my life. I find myself assessing; What was it all about?
I started school with certain expectations. Naturally, I was disappointed. I wanted to be recognized as a teacher. I was already a teacher, other people just didn't seem willing to acknowledge my status. I thought that getting the right degrees would remedy this. What I failed to see is that teaching isn't really valued in our institutions; therefore, people like me, natural teachers are not celebrated. I wanted to be celebrated as a teacher. I wasn't.
There were, however, unexpected rewards along the way. For example, I discovered myself as a writer. I learned to revel in the pleasure of coffee house writing. I demonstrated a level of discipline that I didn't know I was capable of. I found a writing group and developed friendships with people who teach me through their own love of words and stories.
Life has a funny way of taking us where we never intended to go. I am trying to approach the next leg of the journey with detached curiosity, openness and acceptance, keenly aware of the dangers of expectation.
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