...started a blog.

I have a lot of tabs open in my head. Ideas swirl around and around. They get me to laugh and cry, leaving me entertained, inspired, depressed, curious, and even bewildered. Most of the tabs that get me thinking the most and really hold my interest have to do with my career as an educator. Most of these files are locked away in a personal filing cabinet in my brain.

Although I work with the public for a living, I am also painfully introverted. I wear my work-face and play the part. I actively engage with my students and interact with their families and I do it well. However, at the end of the day, it leaves me absolutely exhausted. The LAST thing I want to do is waste my waning energy on small-talk and chit chat, but ask me about teaching children math? Okay! Game on! I can geek out on teaching for a few more hours! Unfortunately, not everyone is quite as stoked to converse about becoming a better math teacher as I am. In fact, the mere mention of the word "math" tends to trigger a glazed, almost fearful look in their eyes cuing the end of that discussion. 

After graduating with my K-8 mathematics masters degree from San Diego State University in May 2016, I was more amped than ever to delve deeper into the teaching of mathematics in particular. I even made the transition from 5th grade elementary to single subject 6th grade math. I went from a cohort of excited graduate students and collaboration in a department of nine 5th grade teachers to no more college and a department of ONE sixth grade math teacher. Hello? Anyone try to have a PLC with yourself? Talk about isolation. Now what!? 

The absence of educational geeks to interact with triggered a need to search for "my people" elsewhere. That's where Twitter came into play. I'll need to post: "The Time When I... joined Twitter." I found a group of people all across the country who are really just as nerdy-crazy about teaching math as I am. They have amazing things to share and I've gained a lot this past year just in reading their posts and links to their blogs, resources, websites, and professional development books. However, there's this big, tinted window between me and the Twitter world where I lurk. I feel like a voyeur who enjoys the show without ever being seen. When I think about posting my own tweet or starting a blog of my own, I think, "What do I have to say that anyone else would possibly be interested in hearing?" So I've remained in the shadows, re-tweeting the work of "the experts". This weekend, I read a Tweet by Carl Oliver, whom I've never met:

I read his blog and identified with what he had to write about the hesitation to post one's thoughts on Twitter. One of the responses to his blog from a woman named Julie also resonated with me:

I'm totally feeling Julie's discouragement! It's like throwing a party and not having anyone come (except for maybe Mom). Ugh. What's the point? Loser, party-of-one! BUT you got me really thinking on point 2: It's all about reframing it. If I have something in that rusty filing cabinet in my brain that I want to share, and there's no one around to appreciate it, why not write about it here? Who am I writing it for? This is my blog; my thoughts; my house. I'm done throwing parties (introverts hate parties anyway). I don't want the stress of worrying if anyone will come. Instead, I'm calling it personal therapy. But unlike my Twitter stalking, I'll leave this window open. Feel free to take a peek. If you like what you see, stay awhile and comment. If not, no worries, but I'll leave the light on for you. 

This is about to become "That Time When I... hit 'Publish'."