Rewind Wednesday, Part 2: Last August 2nd

Okay, fast forward. Went through security and up the stairs.

It was really quiet except for my heart pounding so heavily it had to be audible. I was 15 minutes early. Good. Some time to sit peacefully and get a hold of myself. I sat down and looked into the deep, dark depths of my purse for a mirror to assess my crazy hair day situation.

It wasn't three minutes later I heard "Oh, good, she's already here."

I never found the mirror. Instead I found myself trying to listen carefully to what was being said to me over my heartbeat pulsating in my ears. I stood back up, and I don't know why it didn't bother me earlier that morning, but all the fluid and bruising in my achy-breaky legs just went woosh down to my toes. My legs felt like water balloons as I went through the door with a big smile on my face and my hand outstretched.

They all seemed so tall. And I seemed really young and short.

Meet the Press. Sit up. Smile. Look at them! Don't act like you usually do.  The enormity of it all overwhelmed me. How on Earth had I ended up here? Listen to the questions. I felt like the walls were closing in, inch by inch.

It didn't take long, and then I cracked. Between going through my don't list over and over and debating whether to not to wear my glasses after all (they ended up on the floor after I knocked them off the table), I cracked. I was not going to maintain my composure. In an instant, I was sure that I had ruined everything I had convinced myself wasn't even possible.

Well, what do you do when your in a situation like that? It wasn't like I could get up and leave. So, the only split second option I had was to just be myself. After all, how many people would ever make it as far as that little room? Time to just let it go and forget all the things on the don't list.

I was too emotional. Too silly. And dramatic. Meet the Press had effectively become Oprah's couch. I was just Erin, 5th grade teacher, not pulled together teacher-leader. I'll never see them again, I thought. What difference does it make? I'll just be me, there's nothing to lose now.

My leg really hurt.

And that's how it went for thirty-or-so minutes. I didn't just wear my heart on my sleeve; I added glitter to make it stand out.

Then it was time to give my speech. Now, people dear to me had invested their time in listening to me speak, encouraging me to be confident. In my mind I had now disappointed them more than humanly possible. I owed them all to give it my best on that speech, even if I had blown it. And so I did. I spoke from my heart, where every word had come from, because that's what every person I represented deserved.

It's a little strange giving a big speech to a small group of people. Or maybe I took the assignment completely out of context.

No sooner than it began I was out the door. Embarrassed. Ashamed of myself. I filled out paperwork and quickly was escorted to the main entrance and into the sunshine.

I called Brad. He was already there in the parking lot. I could see him. But I wasn't moving.

"Do you see me? Just walk this way."

I still wasn't moving.

He ended up getting out of the car. Again. All I could muster after spilling my heart out for 45 minutes was a barely audible "It's over."

And then I got in the car.

"I can't believe it! I did everything I shouldn't have done! It was horrible. It's over. It was never going to happen anyway. That's it. That's it?! Why did I say that? It's over. I'm so embarrassed. It is so over."

I said that all the way home. Over and over. For about 4 and-a-half hours. It's a wonder that he didn't make me get out and walk home. Stopping the car first would have been a plus.

***
A month later, I was in the throws of a new school year. I had effectively blocked any thought of my interview or speech unless asked, then I had my "It just wasn't meant to be" line all ready to go. I got a letter in the mail congratulating me and advising to have some remarks prepared in case I was the teacher of the year.

I almost threw it away. Then I thought better and just tossed it in a pile of random papers on my desk.

Two days later, I was chilling on the couch after school. Great day, but a long, tiring one. It was going to be a good year. I whipped out my phone and engrossed myself in a round of Angry Birds.

I was so intent on using the white "egg" bird that NEVER drops the egg in the right spot I didn't hear Brad come in the room.

"Did you get a letter?"

"About what?"

"Don't you need to write a speech?"

I made a face. Nosey. "I don't need to write any more speeches. It's over. There's no way. Don't look at my mail." I went back to bombing the ugly green piggies on Angry Birds.

"I think you better write a speech."

"I love you too, but I know when it's not going to be me. Stop bothering me and don't look at my mail."

"I think you need to get ready for October 9th."

Mr. Persistent. Humph. There's no way. It's over.

And then, I got a feeling. The feeling you get when someone is possibly hiding something from you. When you're the last to know. What if...

I let the black bomb bird disintegrate into the virtual sky and went to go dig up that letter.

***

Well, we all know how this story ended. You just never knew how it started.

I'm asked a lot about what makes me the teacher of the year. Eleven months in and I still don't have the answer people are looking for.

It's not about being all pulled together. Or having all the right answers. Or how many committees or student teachers you've served.

As I said in part one, we aren't always kind to ourselves in this profession. So much is expected, and we often feel we come up short. We not only want to feel empowered, but know that others see our potential, too.

We're all looking for someone just like us.

I'm proof that broken, flawed people with purpose and determination can be leaders, speakers, and amazingly enough, role models. Sometimes your purpose is revealed to you in ways you would never anticipate.

Be different. Be the difference.

But most importantly, be yourself.

Rewind Wednesday, Part 1: Last August 2nd

I haven't done a Rewind Wednesday for a while. I'm giving myself an hour to type this, then I have to get some rest before I spend the day at school tomorrow and then drive four and-a-half hours.

But what I have to say is important - to someone, hopefully. If not, it's just an important reflection to me about how this journey began.

***

I didn't even hear my cell phone ring. I was asleep, in the kitchen, with my forehead resting on the island. I had come home from Germany three days earlier and was still incredibly jet lagged. A few minutes later I drowsily checked my voicemail, not even lifting my head up. I think I dreamed a phone was ringing.

When I heard the message, I went from half asleep to almost falling off the kitchen stool.

I was being contacted to schedule an interview for the 2014 West Virginia Teacher of the Year. I scribbled down a call back number and a date on a piece of paper clinging to the refrigerator, and cleared my throat. Then I started pacing. I paced as I called to schedule my interview. I paced the house as I sent texts to what I hope were people in my contact list but maybe some random people that accidentally got added (but sent nice texts back anyway). I paced the house for probably an hour and-a-half, until my leg started aching.

I tripped getting on a train in Frankfurt two weeks earlier. In an instant I was between the stairs of a train and the train platform. While the teachers who were with me lifted me up and got me onto the train safely, I badly bruised and busted my right leg so much that within 24 hours I was in Heidelberg University Hospital emergency room because I could no longer put weight on it. I managed to make it through the remainder of the trip with a wrap and some mega-antibiotics, but still wasn't the most graceful creature on two legs (I'm still not).

In one week I was going to have an interview to represent the education profession in West Virginia, and I could barely walk - or recount what time zone I was in.

While my friends and colleagues sent their good vibes, I felt less and less confident each day as I wrapped my head around it all. I knew it was possible - but I didn't think it would really happen. This has gotten out of hand, I thought to myself. This is too big, too much for me. I'm a terrible speaker. I do weird, blinky things with my eyes when I talk. My eye contact is horrendous. I'm too silly and emotional (the side effects of being in the fifth grade for so long). I look like a fifth grader. 

(Keep in mind, through a lot of practice and YouTube videos on public speaking, I have conquered my public speaking quirks. I'm not as bad as I thought I was, but at this moment in my life I felt incredibly insufficient.)
 
I read something recently, how we shouldn't treat ourselves any worse than we would our best friend. As teachers, often we are our worst critics. It's safe to say at this point last late July I wasn't being a very good friend to myself. If it's possible to bully yourself, I was doing it.

I went through the next week pacing the house (in between elevating my leg), Googling everything about any and all education issues in existence (and making note cards - I don't know why, but for some reason, I went on an index card kick for six days, and I never use index cards). I wrote a speech. I practiced my speech. I timed my speech. I made other people listen to my speech. Other people, namely the administrators at the Berkeley County Leadership Academy, listened to my speech to give me an audience. They didn't have to do that, but they did. The support and confidence I received from my Berkeley County school family was uplifting beyond anything I could possibly deserve. I reviewed my "don't" list:

Don't cross your legs over and over. Don't cry, even if you're nervous. Don't take your glasses on and off. Don't freak out and make a fool of yourself and Berkeley County. Don't be silly. Pretend it's "Meet the Press." Act like the accomplished teacher you are instead of a scared kid on the first day of school.

I was so nervous my husband drove me to Charleston, taking a day and-a-half from work, because I would have driven off the road at that point - or turned around and gone home. I shuffled my index card collection and listened to myself say my speech on my phone (I recorded it over and over, because I wanted to make sure I enunciated everything correctly) the entire four and-a-half hour drive. You can only imagine what great company I was to have in that car.

Eventually, I went to sleep that night. I think I wore myself out with my antics. The next morning when I woke up, my eyes were itchy and swollen - probably from lack of sleep and the detergent in the hotel blankets. I was having a crazy hair day that no flat iron could tame (thank you summer humidity). And I didn't like my outfit. It was black. A black suit. My mother said it looked nice and professional. I read that you should wear dark, solid colors to an interview. Only problem was that I didn't own any dark, solid colors - but I do have a lot of pink, red, and purple. So I found a suit, a nice, black suit, to wear for my interview - on a 90 degree day in August. I was going to roast in that nice, black suit - and pantyhose. Who in their right mind invented pantyhose?

I got dressed and ate part of a muffin that Brad brought up for me to eat. Somehow I got out of that room and into the car. Brad drove me to the Capitol Complex. I knew I had to go in Building 7 - where's Building 7? A very polite officer showed me from the car where to go.

Brad pointed and said, "See, it's right there. I'm going to let you out here so I don't have to feed a meter."

"Walk me to the door."

"It's right there. I have on my running shorts (which, side note, are hideously short). You'll be great."

I get out of the car and stand. The door is hanging open, but I knew if closed it he'd be off.

"Walk me to the door."

So Brad, in his runner garb, parked the car, fed the meter, and walked me, in my black suit and Payless heels (that I now have in every color because they are the only heels I can walk in), escorted me to Building 7. It was like crossing the Sahara Desert.

I got to the door. I had to open the door to go through security. This was really going to happen. I felt like all of my surroundings were melting away.

I stood there at the door. I've been to some large cities with skyscrapers, but in that moment that was the tallest, most foreboding structure I'd ever seen in my life. Suddenly, I realized Brad was gone. I head "Good luck," but he was high tailing it across the parking lot before I could respond (smooth move in hindsight).

I had no choice but to go inside, because I wasn't going to stand outside in my hot, black suit for an hour. I felt like I was about to enter an unknown world - and I was, just not in a way that I ever could imagine it.

I'm going to have to finish this story sometime tomorrow. It won't be Wednesday, but it will be worth it.

Rewind Wednesday: Last Year's Berkeley County Teacher of the Year Reception

I almost went an entire day without getting on the computer. Then I remembered it's been a while since I've written a "Rewind Wednesday" post.

One event I did not include in my blog posts, which put into motion all of the other experiences that have happened over the past eight months, was being named the Berkeley County Teacher of the Year. It gets lost in the shuffle of all the excitement and travel that has come with representing West Virginia that first I was selected to represent all the teachers in my county, the same school district I graduated from as a student.

I had been a finalist in 2011. All I wanted was to do better than last time. Speaking and interviewing is something that I have worked at to improve, because I didn't want it to hold me back or embarrass me ever again. I left the room after my interview not feeling defeated. Mission accomplished. Maybe in four or five years, I could "fix" myself enough to be selected for such an honor.

I've learned that, when something big is about to happen, nobody talks to you. Everyone tries to avoid you, because they know something and don't want to give it away. Looking back, I should have known something was up. I was getting ready to go to Germany with the Transatlantic Outreach Program in a few weeks, so that's where I was focusing my attention.

When I walked in Hedgesville High School for the reception that Monday evening, I knew something was up. I could feel it, along with the photographer taking lots of pictures of me and my family. My teacher friends were there. My former principal, who had recently retired, was there. Before I walked in the auditorium, I knew. No one had to say anything. And it was overwhelming.

With last year's finalist and teacher of the year

You have to know how far I've come to know why something like this, for me, was a monumental accomplishment. Ten years ago, I was so crippled with panic attacks I couldn't drive a car. Getting through the school day took every ounce of my energy. I witnessed a fatal car accident on I-81 at the beginning of the 2004-05 school year that sent my battle with anxiety into a tailspin. I was hopeful, with Tomahawk only being 10 minutes from my home, that I would be able to make my way to school each day.

With board member Darin Gilpin and principal Beth McCoy

 I wanted to function, to be adequate, to not be ashamed of myself. I desperately wanted to be able to get through an entire school day. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a teacher after all, but I was wanted to give it one more year.

Announcement

 Slowly, things changed. Because I landed at Tomahawk, the right people and opportunities came into my life. I never saw myself as polished or the best in any way. There are teachers I work with that are more pulled together than I could ever be. But I wanted to do things, create things, for children. My aunt was a first grade teacher for 37 years. She impacted the lives of hundreds of children and their families. Dawn rose from an upbringing in poverty to become a college graduate and an incredible influence on others. I hoped to be a fraction of that person. Dawn overcame her obstacles, and I wanted to conquer mine.

With board president William Queen and Superintendent Manny Arvon

Just getting to that point last year had been a long journey, and it was there I expected it to end. It was pure joy to be recognized for my accomplishments in the classroom. There couldn't possibly be anything that would top that night, and I was looking forward to a school year where I could share this honor with my classroom and school.

With instructional specialist Ernie Dotson

With the other finalists

I had no inkling by the end of the year my classroom would be the state of West Virginia. So much has transpired that last June feels like 10 years ago. Only I know it hasn't been that long, because 10 years ago I was a very broken soul.

The first of many interviews

With my parents

With Brad

In five days, the new teacher of the year for Berkeley County will be named. Everyone has a different story for what led them to become a teacher. I choose to share my personal struggles and journey because I know someone out there - be it a student, teacher, or anyone feeling defeated - needs to know that it's possible to pick yourself up, that the right people exist to lift you up and out of your situation. Today is not forever. There is hope and peace in choosing faith over fear, and most importantly, there can be joy in the journey.

With former principal John Spataro, Katie Miller, Heather McCain, and Beth McCoy

March Madness, Part 3: The End of the Beginning

That sonic thud you heard the week before last was me coming to a screeching halt.

I crashed. Not the Prius, but physically. It happens every year, because I tend to load myself down with anything and everything I can shove into my schedule, and then I pay for it. Spring is a new, fresh start, and is more than welcome this year after the Winter with No End in Sight...and I'm hoping, after recharging and taking care of myself, that I'm geared up for the next few months. At least, I hope I'm ready for April, which is looking to have a lot of travel across the state and beyond.

I feel like it is also the end of the beginning of this journey. This role is no longer new. The shock and awe of being the teacher of the year, while still humbling, has diminished. It's who I am, kind of like an extra appendage that I just had to learn how to use properly (if that makes no sense please take into consideration that it's 11:45 at night and I've just driven 4 1/2 hours home from Charleston. I get a free pass.). I've spoken to schools, community groups, teachers, and students; I don't so much as flinch when someone asks me to stand up and say a few words.  I have found my "groove" regarding my platform and issues of interest. Best of all, I have developed a rhythm and routine to what, how, and when I prepare for travel. I can have clothes picked out, equipment charged and packed, snacks, water, and fuel in an hour. I have adapted  to and embraced this journey.

The last part of the month had me slowing down a bit, or more so me going in slower motion. I held a workshop at Shepherd University on grant writing and Web 2.0 tools (albeit for a very small audience...I'll spare my dignity and not share how few people showed up). While I didn't tape any more interviews (yet) for Be the DifferenceWV, I did finish editing and uploading all of the ones I recorded in March. I also helped present awards at the RESA 8 Regional Social Studies Fair (I had planned on judging as well, but by Saturday morning my body was screaming for a break - or at least some sleep). On Sunday, my church family, Otterbein United Methodist, recognized me during the church service and with a reception afterwards.

The super cute flyer I was so excited to give "all" my audience for my workshop...things happen :-S

Regional Social Studies Fair...A Tomahawk student is going to the state competition!

Thank you, OUMC, for my beautiful cake and reception!

Back Creek Valley Elementary Interview with Erin Butler

From church I headed to Charleston for the Arch Coal Teacher Achievement Awards. I was honored as a recipient last year and was given the opportunity to speak to this year's teachers receiving the award. The Arch Coal foundation recognizes 12 teachers in West Virginia each year for their accomplishments in the classroom. I was especially proud of the two teachers from Berkeley County receiving the award, Sonya Shockey and Candi Smith - you can watch both of their interviews for Be the DifferenceWV in Hedgesville High School's and Tuscarora Elementary's episodes.

We meet again, Clay Center...

With Sonya and Candi

Speaking to the recipients

After I spoke at the award ceremony at the Clay Center (hard to believe I was just there in October...), I went to the University of Charleston to speak to their student teachers. I was warmly received and I am extremely thankful to Dr. Lockhart for organizing this event and the following reception. I love speaking to and working with beginning teachers; if "this" was supposed to happen for any reason at all, it is because there are young people preparing for this profession that I was destined to meet. I feel like I have found a second calling working with students in this capacity.

University of Charleson

Speaking to the student teachers in Riggleman Hall

Gorgeous view of the Capitol from the school!

Photo-op with some of the student teachers and Dr. Lockhart (bottom right)

Now I am home, my heart is full, and my car is approaching the 4,000 mile mark. Maybe I didn't crash this month, after all, just skidded a little out of control. This time next month, I will be in Washington, D.C., preparing to meet the President of the United States. Mike Funkhouser, the 2013 West Virginia Teacher of the Year, just sent me a "gentle reminder" e-mail to take care of myself and enjoy the journey. He's right. You can't do everything, all the time, for everyone. I have been blessed with the opportunity to experience this state and its people through the lens of a teacher - and when it's over, I need to have the energy and the joy to share this adventure with others. Everything happens for a reason and a purpose that is yet unseen. In October, I felt like I was living someone else's life. It's almost April, and I can confirm that this crazy, rewarding, and life changing journey belongs to me, at least for the time being. This is for real, but it's not forever.

Berkeley County Schools Community Celebration

I don't sleep well in hotel rooms, at least on the first night. This could be a long year.

As I try to bring myself to the point where it doesn't matter what the bed feels like or who walks by my room, I'll write about the awesomeness that was Tuesday evening. Why yes, I do use and like the word "awesomeness." It's zippy, peppy, and all encompassing  of an experience that is/was completely positive. So, whenever I experience something that blows me away, "awesomeness" it is, no matter who I am or what I become.

On Tuesday, Berkeley County Schools and the Martinsburg-Berkeley County Chamber of Commerce held a Community Celebration in my honor at the Holiday Inn. A special thanks goes to Margaret Kursey, Elaine Bobo, and the BCS communication department for planning a very thoughtful evening. It is very humbling to have people go out of their way to do very nice, beautiful things for you - and it's quickly risen to a point where there is no way I can make it up to anyone for their generosity. It was a beautiful event with members of the community and many of my closest colleagues and family members.

With Heather and Katie, the best teacher friends ever

My cousins, Kaitlyn and Andrea

My in-laws, Brad, and parents

More teacher friends Nicole and Jessica

Finally! A Lewis picture :-)

My Tomahawk Family

I was honored to have several people speak on my behalf Tuesday night - and to share the stage with Beverly Hoffmaster, the 1992 West Virginia Teacher of the Year, as well as Michael Funkhouser, last year's teacher of the year who made the trek to Martinsburg for the second time in less than a week. I know that Hardy County's not on the other end of the state, but I really appreciate it that he has taken the time to support me over the last month.

2013, 2014, 1992

At the end, I was able to say a few words about my goals for the year and a little about who I am and how I got here. The more I watch myself speak, the more I notice things I need to "fix" - so I guess my documenting of my year serves a dual purpose. Speaking, no matter how you try to spin it positively, is something I have to work at - and I know it. I've come a long way though, and only those that know me best know how far. You can hear my speech by clicking on this link.

...And now, I think I typed my way into a foggy-enough haze that I just might sleep for a few hours. I've got a busy week ahead - I'm definitely going to need it.

Special Visitors

Boom! Boom! Boom! That pretty much sums it up.

The past three weeks have been like the finale of a Fourth of July fireworks display. I've always had multiple events and/or projects going on at once. Sometimes, I wonder why I do it to myself, or why things seem to gravitate in my direction. Now I know why. No words can describe the amount of multitasking you suddenly acquire when you become teacher of the year. If you aren't someone who can concentrate on seemingly hundreds of "to dos" on a list that grows by the minute, you become one fast...and I am eternally grateful for every responsibility, task, and hurdle that has been put in my way in the past eleven years, because without that kind of "boot camp," I wouldn't be prepared for this.

...And, although it's a lot to absorb and navigate, I do feel prepared. It's still surreal that I'm here, but I've accepted that this was meant to happen - and I hope I can do some amazing things with it.

So what's been up? Well, three weeks ago (unbelievable it's been that long), I was actually having a fairly normal school week. I was back in the classroom with my students, just being Mrs. Sponaugle. Then Tuesday evening the phone rang. Richard Belisle from the Herald-Mail (a newspaper in Hagerstown, Maryland, that covers our bordering Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia) was calling to arrange a time to not only interview me, but also my students and see my classroom. He wanted to know if he could come Thursday or Friday, so of course I said Thursday (because if you have ever been in a school on a Friday you perfectly understand why). As soon as I hung up, I gasped.

Thursday was Halloween - and if you have ever been in a school on Halloween, you also perfectly understand why.

I'm human. I'm a teacher, with flaws and positives like everyone else. So the immediate thought of having a reporter AND photographer come to my classroom on the most sugar-infested, crazy behavior inducing holiday of the year was a little, shall we say, spooky. However, it all went just fine. In fact, I think it took the focus off of "What are going to dress up as tonight?" and put it on to "Did he take your picture? Did he ask you a question? He took MY PICTURE!! He asked me LOTS of questions!!" My students loved getting to talk to a reporter and being photographed. Although not every picture or quote they gave made it in the paper (we had to have a discussion about how writing a newspaper article and editing works), they clearly enjoyed being celebrities. You can read the article at this link.

The following Thursday, we had a special visit from Michael Funkhouser, the 2013 West Virginia Teacher of the Year. Michael is an instructional coach at East Hardy High School. I appreciate that he took time to come up to our school on a rainy day to meet with my class and let them ask him questions. They all remarked what a very nice man he was after he left - and I would have to agree. He is a wonderful, sincere person - and it's pretty remarkable when a classroom of ten-year-olds picks that up in a matter of minutes.

Mr. Funkhouser

In between, I also taped some interviews for Be the Difference WV at Eagle School Intermediate and Opequon Elementary. I am trying to double up and get as many schools in Martinsburg covered by the end of December, because my schedule for January is almost solid. December, not so much at this point. Then again, I haven't checked my e-mail today yet.

It's strange being out of the classroom so much. In past years, I am hardly ever out - and then, it's only been for school business with two or three exceptions. Being a teacher is part of my identity, my daily routine. I'm getting ready to leave for the Stonewall Resort in Walkersville to work on the instructional criteria for English Language Arts, then next Thursday and Friday I'm at the West Virginia Reading Conference. Those are things I had planned to take on before this happened, but it's very much a preview of what's to come. I have wonderful, capable people who can step up and take over for me, but "fading" out of my role at Tomahawk, although temporary, makes me a little sad. I mean, I love teaching there - and suddenly I'm everyone's teacher, with a much larger classroom. Which means my role in my own classroom, my little spot on Earth, takes a back seat.

Now, I'm the special visitor.

A New Season

It's fall. Leaves are changing color before they make their descent to the ground, the weather is becoming cooler, and the days are getting shorter. Pumpkins and apples abound. Halloween and the sugar induced aftermath is on its way. Clearly a change is coming. It's something we've all experienced before - and often welcome after the sweltering heat of summer.

This past Wednesday, I encountered another change, one that I never anticipated would be a part of my year - or my life, for that matter. I've been given the opportunity to represent my profession and the exceptional teachers of the Mountain State for the next year. It's a role I accept with tremendous pride and responsibility. I want to be the best ambassador for education in West Virginia that I can possibly be, and in the process, hopefully change public perception about the changes and issues that teachers encounter daily in the classroom.

If you met me on the street, you would never peg me as a public figure. I'm quiet - the textbook introvert. I'm also very candid about how I have struggled with speaking and anxiety throughout my life. However, quiet doesn't equate to shy - and my personal flaws aren't going to level me now. I have a role to fulfill, and I intend to do so with the same creativity and passion that I've brought to the classroom for a little over a decade. Within the next few days, be looking to learn more about my goals and message, as well as my "platform"  for the year, Be the Difference.

To keep up with me on social media, I have made my Twitter handle and Instagram wvtoy2014. I also have a YouTube channel, Be the Difference WV, and a Facebook page where I will post pictures of my year, links to my blog, and other positive messages and updates.

This is not going to be easy. I maintain my role as a classroom teacher throughout all of this and what is to come. Part of me still doesn't believe this is all really happening. It astounds me that, this time next year, this blog will be filled with memories and experiences I have yet to imagine. I'm excited, absolutely, but fully aware that this change will impact my life like nothing else has yet to date.

It's a new season. I hope you'll join me.