As 2024 climbs the horizon, I’m feeling the pangs of a dormant writing life. While there are reasons my keyboard’s quiet—like my new role teaching 6th grade—I am also determined to build back my writing patterns, and this is one step of many.
(Though my writing patterns have fallow times and if you’ve followed for awhile you already know that.)
So I’m at the laptop this morning, a 20-minute timer set, students clacking stories to life around me. (Either that or playing video games.)(Ed. note: This was last week, before the snow.)
This whole teaching endeavor is part of what I want to tell you today. I also want to give an update on The Blue Beacon, maybe talk about the winter, and what’s in store for the Green Room in 2024. Let’s begin, shall we?
A Rookie’s Saga
The way I got to be a teacher is one day my friend Aimee, who teaches 8th grade at a private school in NE Portland, messaged to ask: Do you know anyone who wants to teach high school English?
And I wrote back, Ooh, I kind of do, because I’ve wondered about substitute teaching for awhile. My biggest obstacle to teaching was that I don’t have a license. But Aimee and my friend Doug vouched for me, and the school offered me a six-week role.
I’m not entirely new to teaching. I’ve taught one-off classes on storytelling and in Sunday school. But guiding a whole class is a new craft for me. Fortunately, the stint was only six weeks and the curriculum was well-prepared. This was long enough to settle in and learn the trade without over-committing. I accepted the offer, and went to work teaching English and Spanish in late September.
In early weeks I focused on getting to know the landscape and students. There are types, you know? They’re the same as when you were in school: brash jocks and stoic outsiders and all the vast assortment of studentry in between. Every school has hierarchies and trouble spots, but my class was relatively united and cared well for one another.
While learning classroom structures took a minute, teaching English was easy. I had the passion of a rookie, stolen style from teachers I admired, and considerable experience as a pro writer for 20+ years. I also had great literature to work with. My classes were scheduled to read William Golding’s revered novel, The Lord of the Flies, and Elie Weisel’s riveting Holocaust memoir, Night. The former is one of my favorites, and the latter would be a first-time read.
Ease with English was crucial for my morale since every afternoon was stacked with Spanish classes. On hiring, I heard the class was following a DuoLingo curriculum, and that sounded simple and straightforward. But the default teacher actually taught from the book. So while I knew more Spanish than expected, and could sometimes improvise based on my understanding of English or French, my knuckles were pale as I pinwheeled between the book and student questions and Google Translate. I got through—often with the help of the more competent students—but I was often frustrated at the cost to their education at having a Spanish teacher who barely knew Spanish.
At the end of six weeks, I left subsituting with a sense of owning the role better than I’d hoped. I also had abiding affection for my first class of students. And that affection was mostly mutual! They made me a card which they all signed, and told me repeatedly they’d miss me. One group of students lobbied for me to stay on somehow.
(I suspect some of this was because I graded easy.)
I told the president and principal I was open to future roles, but there weren’t any free positions. Back home, I felt grateful to sleep later and to take Lana to school, though I also felt a little bereft. I missed my crew! There were a few more one-off sub calls over the next couple weeks, and I found I preferred steady time with the students to shorter replacement stints. I prayed about all this.
Then a long-term opportunity arrived. At the same school, a 6th grade teaching slot opened up. The administration hoped to move an experienced early childhood teacher down from 6th to cover a hastily-vacated 3rd grade class. They felt I could be the teacher to take over for the middle schoolers.
So, this 6th grade class…I’d heard of them already. Notorious might be the word. Outdoor school had been rough. Well, they’re now my class. Since the return from Thanksgiving, the infamous sixth graders are under my charge, and I’m tasked with teaching them Language Arts, Science, and the Bible through the rest of the year.
English is English and Science is clearer to me than Spanish. But it’s the Bible teaching which introduces a fun twist. I’m a Portland Public Schools kid, and a proponent of public education, but I’ve found that integrating spiritual education— overtly, I mean—is gratifying. I also think, as a product of public schooling, I don’t lay on religion too thick.
Partly, I’m careful because teaching faith is a big responsibility. This passage from James keeps crossing my mind:
”Don’t be in any rush to become a teacher, my friends. Teaching is highly responsible work. Teachers are held to the strictest standards. And none of us is perfectly qualified. We get it wrong nearly every time we open our mouths. If you could find someone whose speech was perfectly true, you’d have a perfect person, in perfect control of life.“ James 3:1-2 MSG
Well, I’m not in perfect control of my life. So how often am I gonna get it wrong? Will these same sixth graders rail to friends about my theology as they deconstruct 15 years from now?
Then I remember James is one of the more legalistic bits of Holy Scripture and grace floods in and I trust what I’m teaching is what my students need to learn. Besides, I’m framing the Bible the way I see it, as the story of our God, which we’re now part of. To pray with students and talk about faith directly is a wild privilege.
I’d like to go into more detail here, but I intend to guard privacy. What I will say is being part of a school system is eye-opening. There are adventures every day, from controversial rounds of heads-up seven-up to complicated and dangerous family dynamics. Every day I gain admiration for the maintenance and work teachers and school administrators face.
The Blue Beacon and Book 2 update
While the initial fervor over the Kickstarter campaign is yet to be repeated, The Blue Beacon continues to sell a little bit at a time, mostly on word-of-mouth. I’ve made zero marketing decisions, largely because I’ve heard I should save any and all marketing dollars for the release of future books in the Cascadia Chronicles. To that end, you can buy your copies below:
I’ve said this before, but it seems wisest to focus on writing a sequel. And while story arcs for Book 2 are mapped, only the first few chapters are written. Some of this is that the story is still in ideation state, but I also know putting words down will spark the ideation.
Clearly, most of my creative energy was directed toward teaching since the fall, and while spending days with my target audience is helpful in other ways, it’s time to rev the engines. To that end, our class is starting daily writing sessions, like the one I started this piece with. I also plan to teach creative writing as an elective in the second semester, and I look forward to building out my first draft alongside the students.
Then there’s the Green Room
We’re a month out from the Green Room’s fourth birthday. In years past, I shared grand plans for what I hoped to produce in the following year, and while some of those goals were met, many fell short.
So for the Green Room’s fourth season, I’m gonna let the garden grow wild. Of course, you can certainly expect similar themes to my previous work. I still have so many stories to share, and my goal is to return to novel-writing production levels as the school year levels out. All that’s to say, thank you for your patience and continued support.
Today is a snow day and I’m no longer writing from the classroom. I’m looking out on a thawing field of ice and slush after a half week socked inside. There were blossoms blooming before this storm hit. They are gone now. The storm took down a lot of trees, sparked a lot of insurance claims. But we all got a couple days off from school, and we kept our hummingbird fed.
I expect the ice will be soon be gone, and 2024 to roll on. Thank God for seasons of storm and ice, for blooms and heat. I am grateful to dwell in His world. I am grateful to send you my words. Thank you for reading.
I enjoyed reading this update, Jordan. 👍🏼
Jordan, glad that your teaching has been enriching and a good option for you.
All best wishes,
Lisa