Decidedly Undecided

I have more or less challenged my 8th graders to a poem a day project. They don't know this yet of course. If they did, I would inevitably be pitted again the pitiful moans of the overworked and underpaid students. And instead of being up front about the matter, I prefer the sneaky methods of frog boiling, heating one notch at a time. Every day they will write. Only at the end of the thirty days will they realize my plan.

I might tempt myself with such a plan, as my recent creative writing hiatus is enough to convince me that I am not a writer, just a writing teacher. Yet, how wrong is that?
A writing teacher should be a writer after all.

So I am undecided. In the coming days I may be writing a new transcript request form or rewriting a rubric as I did last week. For the moment, though, I am contented breathe deeply and chomp on the creative writing juices if I so choose. Now, come January, my schedule allows for such a liberality. How pleasant. I don't miss the creative paucity of first semester loaded with unread books, unfinished plans, and unloaded guilt. I anticipate the coming days, excited to be decidedly undecided, to allow time to people and experience to happen as they may. I want to be available, to have space. I hope to continue to breathe freely. The air is so fresh from where I'm sitting.