Dear Book Pimp

Do you sometimes forget to kick ass?

Like it's supposed to be riding a bike and you're supposed to just get on there and ride around like it's nothing but you--unlike everyone else in the adage, who say it's-like-riding-a-bike--have somehow forgotten how the bike works and are scared now?

Ahem, me neither.

We moved and I hadn't done that in a lot, a lot of years. The last time I did it, I made friends instantly and am still friends with a fair number of those people. It was also before I got married and before I had kids.

Bizarrely, I still feel like fundamentally the same person. I still light up about snow and just about die of excitement about a powder day. I jam out to music and dance too vigorously at red lights. I haven't stopped playing board games and liking puzzles.

An aside: the Spanish word for puzzles, "rumpecabezas," means broken head. Like, the idea was hard and my head broke. Spanish is so awesome.

For comparison, the German concept people love to talk about so much "Schadenfreude" translates to sadness pleasure or sadness satisfaction (but slightly more positive than satisfaction.)

And I do love the logical, calming, sensible way the German language works. It just makes so much danged sense.

But c'mon, rumpecabezas? And if you heard it spoken aloud, it sounds like children rolling down a hill for the first time. How can you not assume Spanish-speakers are having all the fun?

I watched a Spanish-speaking kid in kindergarten this morning. He could be so frustrated by the insanity of what's going on on a daily basis in that kindergarten class. Instead, he just hugs the girl next to him. He didn't break the head but hugged a neighbor instead.

What was I talking about?

Right, we moved and it's not going super awesome.

I took a job that seemed like an exciting dreamjob in terms of growth and focus on the things I care about. I went in stoked to support teachers loving teaching reading, and a desire to grow kids' reading. I wanted to show them they can have joy and fun and that reading is a truly unifying community-builder in a school.

But somewhere along the line of trying to get oriented to the new people and the new building and the new routines and grants and the state and trainings, plus playground rules and personalities, it just kinda got blurry and maybe fell apart. The job isn't all that I'd hoped for. No job is, but this has been really something awful. Like, next level. 

Still though.

I know how to kick ass.

I've lost some of my waistline but my game has nothing but improved. I'm a kickass teacher. I know how to make my expectations clear while making them feel welcome, and I also teach them things. I know how to make them feel seen and then to inspire them. I know how to love being myself.

No new boss or bullshit is really up for debate when I remember to kick ass.

One of the difficulties has been some mental health stuff. I always struggle with this part. What is private of another person's, and when do I get to just not worry about the WASPY privacy thing and just be honest about challenges? When do I get to be open about a thing and unapologetically be all-in for a person by being open about how awesome the struggle is?

I guess it's not time yet and the reality is, this just isn't mine to determine. So the answer is not now.

But a timid approach doesn't quite fit me. I do like to sit back and take in, but it would be a mistake to misunderstand that for timidity or passivity. 

During shutdown, I did a puppetshow lipsync battle over zoom. My kids turned in pictures of their pets doing homework and everyone did it even though it was for zero points. We crashed another class to sing them songs and then did that class's activity. I am the queen of fun. I came to kickass. I remember now. Oh, and I don't even like riding bikes. I like to do backflips off the diving board.