I forget my New Year's resolution

My New Year’s resolution is to be more forgetful. It’s already February. That’s fine; it’s in keeping with my vow. In fact, I sat down to write this piece back on January 1 or 2 (I forget - excellent), and then forgot about it. Why would I do such a thing? I think you really need to dive into my everyday experience as a teacher to understand.

I arrive in the morning at school. It’s usually dark, and my brain is too. No lights on upstairs until I get the coffee brewing. But I have to earn that privilege - first, say hi to everyone in the hallway and hear about their various tragedies and ailments. The cold linoleum and buzzing fluorescents are the ideal setting for some impromptu counseling.

Then I have to greet and encourage the awkward teens waiting outside my door in the cold (How did they get there so early? I thought they hated school?). They’re actually great to see - believe it or not, I love working with that particular sub-species - but it does require me to (a) remember their names, and (b) remember all of their tragic backstories as well. You don’t want to be giving words of wisdom about the fleeting nature of human life to a kid who just went through a bad breakup. I gotta save those nuggets for the kid who just lost their beloved grandfather. And aunt. And dog. And sense of innocence.

And then I have to prep for the main show. They pay me to teach, so I do feel a certain sense of duty to attempt doing just that. What chapter was in for Chemistry? Oh right - they’re no longer called chapters, because doing so would mean we couldn’t justify the 19th non-informational-but-rather-font-and-appearance-based update to the curriculum. I think they’re called “Experiences” or “Footprints”. Or maybe “Plops”. And then the speaking quiz and new project for French 1. And the same for French 2. But not the same I used for last year, because this year’s students are at a very different place than their peers from the year before. And the reading questions and presentations for AP Environmental Science, which require referencing three different websites (with a different password and email address for each), writing some of it at a sixth-grade level for struggling students enough intelligence to be bored by sixth-grade reading but not enough reading skill to be able to crack the college-level vocab. Not their fault. I have to remember that we all progress at different rates.

Then I go home and have to remember to take car of the cats and the dog and plan the dinners and make sure my daughter gets to her Advanced Czech Earthenware Pottery Class II on time and remember to do more corrections because it’s the end of the semester and all of a sudden a third of my students realize that yes, grades do count for something and the inevitable crawl of time will not stop simply because you do not feel like turning in your projects.

One wonders why I forget to go to the bathroom most days.

Most people at this point in history do not see this frantic sugar-rush of a schedule as a bad thing. We constantly hear about “efficiency”, “drive”, and “productivity”, our new holy trinity. The father, son, and wholly insane. We can measure these things, count them, make us feel like we are improving by seeing numbers go up.

I’m sick of it.

So this year (and yes, again, I’m late, so what) I’m not going to remember as much. I’m not going to encourage my own neuroticism, nor am I going to push my ability to pay attention to its limits simply so I can fulfill every mundane request that has inexplicably been raised to Alert Level ButtClench 5. I’m sorry, little Joe-Bob. I’m not remembering to stay up tonight until 3 in the morning in order to make sure you’re eligible for the Junior Varsity Speed-Walking team.

I’ll try my best. If you walk up to me and ask me to give you a random signature on a piece of paper, or to get a quick report about your grades printed, or to give you $100 because I’ve just eaten half of the menu in your delightful little café, I’ll do it. I’m not a goldfish. I can remember that.

It’s more of a generalized philosophy than anything else, and not one I’m particularly good at at this point. But I’m trying. It’s about looking at the roof that needs replacing, the car that needs a tune-up, the yard that needs some love, and just saying “well, it can wait”. And then forgetting about it.

Because it’ll still be there in the morning. And the morning after. We only have so much time in our lives here on this Earth, and spending it remembering that some other person really wants you to do something mundane and only tangentially related to your life is not time well spent. You live in the moments you are given, and try not to think about the stuff you aren’t doing in those moments.

It’s not about not caring for those around you - not at all. I’m not turning into some sort of hipster sociopath that can’t stand relating to anything or anyone not directly responsible for feeding him. It’s more that I’m trying to turn off the ol’ brain more often. It’s running on precious little capacity to begin with, and asking it to tow another thing around means that it’ll never get up the cognitive hills presented to it by life.

I’m leading by example. While you’re staring at the clock at three in the morning, thinking about all the honey glazed you forgot to coat perfectly the day before in the Tim Horton’s Donut Mines, think of me. Think of all the kids’ lives I could have improved by remembering to write their parents. Think of how it may have lead to a kid becoming the next Desmond Tutu. Then think about how I forgot all about that to play my guitar instead. Because if I hadn’t, my sanity would have dribbled out of my ears.

Inspiring, I know.