from my xanga, created by and for my 8th graders...

Just got back from a meeting at church. Two college guys are going to China for a couple of months and they wanted to meet and talk about some stuff...I couldn't stop talking. I mean, I talk a lot anyway but I think I could talk about China for hours. Maybe even a day or two.

I don't think about my 5 months there all that often. You would think that it would be on my mind constantly. I will never forget, and thank God I wrote a lot down...but as time passes, it fades. I think that is part of the grace of God...that sometimes He doesn't allow us to remember things because life would be way more painful than it already has the potential of being. I remember when we were about to leave I couldn't remember the hard parts of the first few weeks until I read about them in my journal...and even then I was having a hard time remembering what I dealt with on a daily basis. And now, perhaps I don't remember a lot because I would be more likely to question the position I am in now...which is absolutely the last thing I ever thought I would be doing.

The crazy thing is...I love it. I love the kids and the lesson planning and the talking about Harlem and the Pope in class and laughing and knowing them...truly knowing what is going on in a lot of their lives because they know I care and that they can tell me. How many other teachers can say that? Very few. And I wonder if you just stop caring, or if it just gets harder to carry the burdens of so many people - especially teenagers - so you just stop. And I don't want to be that...I want to always be emotionally involved. If not, what else is there? There's grammar and writing and bellwork and homework and...nothing. There's no love in that. And that's why I am there. To love, first, and then to teach.