Ruminations upon my return to New York

Note: I started writing this post 4 days ago, and I'm finishing it now. I don't think the first part is any less true now than it was then.

I often find it difficult to de-clutter my mind sufficiently to write a coherent post. I have something like five different posts swirling through my head right now, and I'm trying to write whatever comes naturally out of my fingertips. Sometimes writing about the difficulties of writing is a good way to get myself started.

I returned to teaching yesterday after 2-plus weeks of vacation. I left myself virtually no time to prepare my lessons, but my experience differed immensely from my return after winter break. I barely slept that Sunday in early January, wracking myself with irrational anxieties about my fitness as a teacher. This time around it was smooth sailing. I slept peacefully, entered the oddly distant-yet-familiar school with confidence. My lessons were crisp and cool as the April air, and my enthusiasm for seeing my students again carried me through the day. I realized that I've got a decent handle on this whole teaching thing, and I genuinely love working with these kids every day. I missed them. I didn't necessarily miss the work and the planning and the exhaustion, but I missed them.

This provided some much-needed relief. It's comforting to know, to feel it in your bones, that you like what you do day in and day out. Feeling purposeful is a tremendous state in which to be, one that I've come to value after years of feeling something less. But it's not enough. For awhile it was; it had to be. I dedicated the entirety of my focus and energy into becoming a decent teacher, into learning the ropes and paying my dues. I didn't have time or energy for much else. I spent the last ten days surrounded by family and friends who are as good as family to me, and I couldn't help but notice the vacancy when I came back to New York.

It was my third trip back to Chicago, and for the first time I didn't experience my typical excitement and yearning for home. I was almost sad to be leaving this city that had taken me in with such open arms. Then I went to Chicago and it all felt so natural, everything slipping back into place as if I hadn't ever left. Then I went to Las Vegas and saw the family that I hadn't seen in so long, and I remembered why I missed them so much in the first place. And then it was over and I was back in New York City wishing I had even one person I could care for as much as I care about those I left behind. Like I've said in previous posts, giving of myself to all these students is an experience wholly unique and thrilling and gratifying, but it occupies a different realm from what I experienced during my travels over break. There exists a space, a vacancy, and I long to bridge the distance.

A few moments stand out for me from the past couple weeks:

(1) Leaving Chicago. I was surprised by my realization of how much I was going to miss that drizzling, freezing city (it had been in the 30s for the past couple of days before I left). It hit me rather suddenly. I had a very early flight to Vegas, so I was leaving my house at 5:30 in the morning. It felt secretive because no one was awake besides my cat Lola. The dark expanse of the living room between us, I waved goodbye to her as she darted her eyes between me and the bright lights of the car outside. For some reason, the scene made me really sad. Maybe leaving the cat behind reminded me of leaving something so comforting and domestic as the family home. Maybe I realized that if I was getting that choked up about a cat, it was going to be rough sailing not seeing everyone for awhile. I'm not sure. But I felt extremely attached to the feeling of being back in Skokie, and it hurt a little to let go.

(2) My birthday. My birthday was last Thursday, and I spent it in Las Vegas. While Vegas can be an ideal place to spend a birthday, I've realized over the years that the people make the birthday far more memorable than the place or the circumstances. So it was sort of strange to be in Las Vegas where I had lots of family, but family I hadn't seen in 3 or 4 years. I was worried that I would get in one of my overly contemplative moods and start to feel lonely and out of touch. My cousin Mike took me out to a bar just outside the strip, and we spent the evening shooting the bull (not riding it, although we could have at this place). His lovely girlfriend was there along with his band mate Kane and their friend Robert. I barely knew most of the people there, but I felt welcomed and ended up having a great time. Then I met up with Cherie, the art teacher whom I adore from school in the Bronx, and her extraordinary girlfriend Sam, and we lived it up on the Strip. Cherie and I enjoyed birthday shots of Patron before going on a tear and winning big bucks at the blackjack tables. Being with her also reminded me how good I have it back in New York. Going back for a moment to the beginning of the evening, I love getting to know people, and there was something, I don't know, extraordinary about hanging out with my older cousin Mike after all these years and recognizing that as much as we've changed it still feels like family. Family is an incredible thing, and I get blown away by how they're so good at it in Vegas. It's a gift. They know how to make family feel like family.

And along those lines, (3) a big family dinner on my second day in town. The stars aligned, and a bunch of people ended up being in the same place at once. We all had dinner on Wednesday evening, and I left feeling unabashedly good. I saw family that I hadn't seen in probably 10 or 15 years. A little background info: growing up, the now-Vegas family that I spent the most time with were Aunt Pat and Nana Betty, Uncle Mike and Aunt Kim, and my cousins Mike, Kath, and Allison. Sort of on the periphery for me were my Aunt Lil and her family and my Uncle John (who everyone calls Butch). I saw both Uncle John and Aunt Lil at this dinner. It was, quite simply, wonderful to see Aunt Lil. The wonder of the internet has unexpectedly made us closer than we ever were when we both lived in Illinois as the blogosphere allows us to follow each other's lives, which happen to be going in sort of parallel directions. We've both embarked on life-changing adventures in the past year--hers on the open roads across the country, mine in the vast avenues of New York City and its Department of Education. You can read her blog at . Anyways, it was cool to finally see her in person and meet Jim, her partner in crime. Equally exciting in a way that I find difficult to put into words was seeing Lil's daughter Amy, her husband Matt, and her daughter Kayleigh. I can't remember the last time I saw Amy, and if I ever met Kayleigh it was when she weighed about 15 pounds. (Although I remembered how to spell her name.) It was great because Amy is super smart and sweet, and 6th-grade Kayleigh is obviously following in her footsteps, and the three of them seem so happy together. I felt happy just to be related to them. Plus, it was keenly nostalgic to see this friendly, articulate, intelligent (straight-A's), Beatles-loving kid in the middle of a family gathering because the last time I saw everyone that's pretty much where I was at in life. I wish nothing but the best for them; it was a brief dinner, but I'm already a huge fan.

So it's with these experiences that I came back to New York with something of a heavy heart (if only because it was filled to the brim with so many good moments). Wait, sorry, one other thing before I move on: I am amazed by my Nana Betty. At 89, she's still the life of the party and has an infectious energy about her. Thank you, Nana Betty and Aunt Pat, for everything while I was staying with you.

Okay, back to coming back to New York. It was a little strange being back. By now, the week's flown by and it was great and I finally saw my teaching fellow friends from over the summer, and I just ate the greatest taco I've ever tasted, and I'm having a great time. But, as you can see by the length of this post, I'm still thinking about everyone back home and in Vegas. It's that strange duality of living in New York. I'm here to explore who I am, but I also know that I am most me when I'm with those I've left behind.

But I'll leave that thought for another post.

Until next time.