Identity Crisis

I have been having an identity crisis of sorts this summer. Not the crazy kind. Just the who am I kind. This is how I might describe myself, "wife, mother of 4, Oregonian turned Utahn, book lover, pot roast hater, Uno cheater, shopaholic, English teacher." Is that right? I'm not sure. This summer I've had to think about all of it a little more than I normally do. Not the big generalities, but the little things. The little things we think don't matter that much, that are just part of us. Like being from Oregon or hating pot roast. The English teacher part is the one that's had me thinking the last few months. It's been part of who I am for the last 10 years. I taught while I was getting my masters at BYU and then trasferred to the Salt Lake center when Jeff was in grad school. Once a week for the last 10 years I have gone downtown and spent the evening talking about writing and reading and all the things I love. I'm good at it. It makes me happy. I always thought of it in those terms. The one time a week that had nothing to do with my kids or my husband or my house but had to do entirely with me. It was fun. But I could let it go if I needed to, if I had to. It wasn't really that important. Turns out, I was wrong. BYU changed their freshman English program and in another semester it won't be offered in Salt Lake. I panicked a little when I heard this. Or a lot. I made phone calls to this dept. chair and that secretary and became a general nuisance to anyone that would listen to me. There was nothing to be done, the decision had been made. So I sat back and wondered why this was such a big deal to me. I had told myself all these years that it was actually not a big deal, it was fun, it was gratifying, but it was not that big of a deal. Yet when I was faced with the possibility that it would not be part of me anymore, I felt a little lost.Teaching makes me feel smart. It makes me feel worthwhile. And I realize now how important that is. That it's ok for that to be important.

So after months of emails and phone calls, I got another teaching job. I will still be in Salt Lake once a week for now, but I will also be on the main campus twice a week teaching advanced writing this semester. I could talk myself into being a little manic about it. All new prep, new books, lots of students, more grading. Or I could just say I'm a little nervous. And a little excited. And both would be true. It will be an adventure. Which could be exactly what me and my identity crisis need.