On Titles & Sabbaths

It’s Memorial Day.  The school year’s drawing down, and so is my middle school faculty deadline to post grades and comments. I’ve spent the holiday weekend, hunched over my laptop, gazing into the middle distance every 20 or so minutes,  battling the same distraction and procrastination that leads deadline-dealing folks everywhere to daydream or surf the Internet.

My mind’s been wandering toward deciding on a title for this sabbatical-themed blog.  I finally landed on the bell idea because bells make good symbols, and what English teacher doesn’t love a good symbol?  Its alliteration may lean a little too close to cute, but still this blog’s title is grounded in a truth about my 8th grade students’ and my daily experience.  Just outside the door of my classroom, about 7’ overhead, a beige dome is mounted and set to jangle the nervous system of anyone within hearing distance every 50 and 55 minutes.  The thing would do any fire station proud with its 5-alarm bellow.

Recently a thunderstorm-induced power outage knocked this ancient bell system out of commission, a happy accident in my opinion, so you see I’m already “beyond bells,” and I may as well procrastinate, er…begin writing about the sabbatical experience that I haven’t yet had but am actively anticipating.

Of course I tried to incorporate “sabbatical” into this blog’s title.  Radical Sabbatical, my first fleeting idea, has been used ad nauseam, according to a quick Google search.  And not much else rhymes with sabbatical (fanatical seemed a bit much).  All of this wordsmithing tapped into my English teacher love of OED-style sleuthing, and I began to ponder the origins and expressions of “sabbath.”  I grew up attending Sunday school at First Plymouth Congregational and later St Thomas Episcopal in Denver, but what I most remember is my mom’s industrious habit of dragging us to the grocery store for the weekly trip on the way home from church. This Sunday routine not only failed to meet the restful aspects of the Sabbath, but I’m also convinced they’re the source of my lifelong habit of over-scheduling the weekend (and the week, for that matter).

I’ve recently read some interesting ideas on secular sabbaths (for example, check out this thought-provoking article on taking a break from tech and device use: https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2012/02/we-dont-need-a-digital-sabbath-we-need-more-time/252317/ ).  I learned that our shared cultural values are at odds with the way many of us live our lives.  Basically, we value the concept of rejuvenation, but we don’t practice it much.  That might mean missing out, and I for one hate to miss out (a primary reason for my inability to nap).

So I plan to rest and rejuvenate in a different way during my sabbatical.  I’ve decided that my concept of a sabbath centers on restoring balance, which will mean pursuing interests that get overshadowed by the demands of daily classroom life.  Away from the regiment of 50 and 55 minute bells, my newfound, non-Pavlovian self will explore the threads of varied interests. (Imagine: I’ll read my weekly New Yorker over coffee one morning rather than casting longing glances in the direction of its enticing cover art for days on end!).  

For sure my sabbatical will fulfill the traditional notions of an academic sabbatical (more reason not to employ the “radical” or “fanatical” appendages to the title):  I’ll visit many classrooms in a variety of settings, travel, muse, create, learn, re-boot, and write.  Write!  I hope I still have something to say when I’m not motivated by procrastination.  No doubt, the concepts of self-directed learning and discipline will feature largely in some of my upcoming posts.

Thanks for reading my first post!  For now, it’s back to comment writing and daydreaming for T-42 hours.