At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. Albert Schweitzer

It is no secret to anyone here that I have been having what could be called a crisis of faith in regards to education.  No matter what I do, it never feels enough.  I miss teaching kids but know myself well enough that the feeling of "not enough" would only be compounded if I were to go back into the classroom now.  So, I support my beginning teachers the best I can, wishing I could more, wishing education had less trajectories and data and more connection and common sense.  I leave them with encouraging words until I can see them again.

I knew that I needed to rekindle my love for education some how so last spring I approached my boss about attending the annual convention of National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) this fall. I had attended when the convention was in Nashville and then again in New York but it had been a few years. She supported my attendance and even decided to come along.  I flew off to Boston with a schedule full of sessions I hoped would inspire and renew and maybe even redirect my journey.

I have been home from Boston for a week and have sat down to do a NCTE13 'recap' post many times since I boarded the plane last week. The problem I keep having is trying to put into words the experience I had.  I got to hear some inspiring teacher developers and some of my favorite authors. (Judy Blume was there!  Judy freakin' Blume!)  By the end of the first session on Thursday afternoon, I knew I was in the right place. The sparks from all of the session presenter's and the people I sat with during the sessions reminded why it is I love teaching.  

There was one session, however, that will not be soon forgotten.  The session title was Closer Reading: Close Reading Texts, Close Reading Lives and the presenters were Chris Lehman, Kate Roberts, and Maggie B. Roberts.  I didn't know it when I crammed myself into the corner way in the back of the crowded room but it was exactly what I was looking for.  Exactly what I needed.  At the end of the session, Chris shared a story about his wife and when he was telling it, I saw myself.  After the session, Chris and Kate were doing a book signing and I skipped my next session to get in line to have them sign my book but more importantly to say thank you.  

Before I write anymore, go read Chris' post here. (If you don't click and read the rest of my post isn't going to make any sense.)

I was one of those criers that Chris wrote about.  I don't know where it came from.  It just happened.  I had just gotten Kate's signature and was trying to be as non-creepy fangirl as possible (without much success I would guess) and then stood in line to thank Chris for his words at the end of the session.  And before I even got the phrase "thank you" out, my throat tighten and the tears welled.  Embarrassed, I tried to start over and began blubbering about what I can't remember.  (I am pretty sure that it had something to do with teaching.)  I didn't rally very well and Chris stopped, came around the desk he was sitting behind and gave me a hug.  The kindness he showed me is something I will not forget anytime soon. As I walked away, I felt embarrassed and inspired all at the same time. 

Then I read his blog post and realized that I am not alone.  Not alone by a long shot.  I have been thinking about what my butter knife is since.  I think for me, like Chris, those butter knives are connecting.  I always feel better after reaching out, reading and listening to others.  I feel less isolated.

I was out to lunch with a friend the other day after I got back and ran into a teacher that I mentored for the last three years.  I was sharing the stories of how inspired I was by the words of the presenters at the convention. I was sharing that even though there aren't any less data walls or assessments than when I left two weeks ago, somehow it all feels a little more manageable and how even though it was super creepy, that I wished I could just be friends with all those presenters. My teacher looked at me and smiled a little and said, "That's exactly how I feel when I listened to you when we worked together. I know you just thought you were just leaving us with words, but now you know what words like that can do." Maybe words are a butter knife for me too.

I started a Twitter account last February that I didn't do much with.  I revived it at the convention and followed along those that were tweeting with the hashtag #ncte13.  I even tweeted a couple of times myself.  But it is scary and I am pretty sure I am doing it wrong.  (Is there a wrong way to tweet?) 

I was in session listening to Lester Laminack and he said, "We wallow in what we do well."  This blog isn't an education blog.  It is a little blog about me living life. But, in the spirit of connecting (and not just wallowing), I am going to tweet the link to this post even though it terrifies me. After all, what if a bunch of English teachers read this and see all my grammar mistakes and my sentences that end in prepositions. 

It's ok though...I owe a deep gratitude to those at the convention and luckily red pens don't exist on the internet. I owe a deep gratitude to those that have rekindled the flames within me so I can continue on in my work. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you.