There are
days when that inner critic,
Drowns out
my own voice.
I wake,
Trying to
find my way in writing,
Trying to
find my message,
My voice.
The critic
speaks.
Rumbles.
Shouts.
Says that
what I do isn’t different
From anyone
else.
It isn’t
unique,
Special,
Who am I to
write about it?
On those days I go to school,
To children
who haven’t read.
For five
days.
Despair
wells up.
Breathe.
Then I have
today.
Where the
inner critic was SCREAMING,
During my
entire writing time for #nerdlution.
I listened.
Quit.
Quit.
Went to school.
Surrounded
by students who read more last night,
Than they
had in five days.
Who knew I
was sad,
And wanted
to show me what they truly could do.
I went to school to confer with young readers.
Laugh with hysterical
kids.
Read aloud
amazing books.
And then the magic happened.
The quiet
moments you have to look for,
Or you will
miss them.
The notes slid over to me that say,
I now know I am a reader.
The email
from a former student saying hello,
Asking for
book recommendations.
The feeling
of a fifth grader wrapping their giant arms around you,
Hugging
just to say hi,
They missed
you.
The moment
when a student stopped me,
Listen to this beautiful language…
As she read
a passage from Words with Wings aloud.
Those
moments quiet that critic.
I still don’t
know what to write.
I still
struggle to sit down and actually type.
I still
think there are better teachers.
But I
reached some today.
For this, I’m
grateful.
Thanks.
