Crossing Paths with Past Selves

Same story, different decade.

What I love about reading and writing is that it allows you some sort of genteel discourse with dead people. Including your old selves. I keep scraps of paper, journals, letters I didn't send because they got too long-winded, or too revealing, or I was too lazy to get them into an envelope, let alone a mailbox. And I leave up old blogs. And I keep secret blogs, which are basically just an electronic version of letters I will not send. For whatever reason I felt like typing in a medium that can be scintillatingly close to public... but not public at all.

Today was a day when I happened to revisit some of my selves, and perhaps it wasn't a good idea.

I am back in a classroom.

Once again working primarily with students, who for a million reasons, most outside of their control, and my control, do not fit the peculiar shape required of a body and mind in our public education system. It's hell. Of the Jean Paul Sartre variety, involving the attempt to control other people. So... Hell for all concerned.

I have sent myself back in to hell.

It's not even well paid! The pleasures are minimal. The frustrations intense.

The thoughts that were swirling around in my head at the age of 22 in regard to public education, are swirling around again, and it has been 15 years. My life as a fractal.

Pause.

Realize that just as I keep coming back to hyper-frustrating work in education, I also keep leaving education. Which means...

In some undefined period of years, I will have said "Fuck this noise" and run away to do something else.

Hey That Self, I bet you are feeling pretty good right now, as you run across this message in a bottle. Nice work.

At the end of the day a little bit of self-congratulation should be acceptable.

Oh also, Past Self who chose the formatting for this blog, you really chose this font? And all the versions of me who blogged... good on you, but how did you have the chutzpah to think anyone would care? How did you know who to write to? The current creature who inherited you looks at blogging and tastes ash. I guess she just had a long day.