Poetry Scenes and the Teaching Life

We had hoped the work crew would have made significant progress on the bathroom install, but rain has interrupted the plan.  You might wonder why rain interrupts the plan--the tile cutting is done outside. Happily the person in charge stays in touch with us.  And even more happily, I don't feel like we're in a race against time, the way I would in South Florida, where, as Brian McNoldy reports, "We're now at 400 consecutive days of record-breaking ocean temperatures in the North Atlantic."

I still have a bit of sadness left over from yesterday.  It is sadness that makes no sense to me.  Why be sad about past houses, past jobs, when I am happy now, too?  And the job that I had in 2017 no longer exists, and the school I was at exists in name only, so it's a different sadness than the house sadness.  Actually, between affordability and sturdiness and climate hardiness, I am much happier in our current house.

I have also been reading about the closing of colleges, most recently the announcement yesterday that Goddard College would be closing.  Even in schools that are staying open, so many liberal arts programs are being cut.  I feel fortunate to be at Spartanburg Methodist College, but also a bit worried--how long can all of these small schools stay open?

It's not a new worry.  Even decades ago, when I was finishing the Ph.D., we had these discussions.  It's disheartening to see how we have devalued education.  It's disheartening to see students who can't put the phone down for five minutes at a time--in some ways, the connectivity of the smart phone is more of a threat to a good education than all these closings and actions of state legislators.

Again, I'm glad we're in a more affordable place, where we can drift into retirement, if need be.  I think some of my sadness is fueled by thinking about the grad student I was and the world she thought she would be inhabiting.  I'm also seeing poets with books in the world this year and feeling sorry for my own work.

I remind myself that I'm working on an MDiv, and that with luck, there will be time to return to the pursuit of poetry publication later.  Maybe I will be one of those poets who burst onto the national scene much later in life, giving hope to everyone who feels that time has passed them by.

Or maybe I will continue to create my poems in this much more quiet way I've developed, no bursting onto any scenes, national or otherwise.  I'll drink my tea, craft a poem, and work on a quilt--it's the kind of life I've always wanted.