Summer is a sentimental time for me because it is so often a time of transition. Five years ago, I was getting ready to leave for Indonesia. I spent the “summer of fun” visiting friends, playing pub trivia, and trying to calculate how much sunscreen I would need for a year in the tropics. I was excited to leave for Indonesia, but leaving my job teaching middle school French and Spanish was one of the hardest things I have ever done. After a couple of rough years (aren’t everyone’s first years of teaching rough?), I really hit the jackpot during my fourth year of teaching. I finally felt like an effective teacher, and I had great students who mispronounced “Mlle” to call me “Mel Kidwell” (which is totally incorrect, but endearing nonetheless) and who threw me a surprise going away party when I left. I made a “teacher facebook” so I could accept them as friends, and looking at it recently, I realized that the 7th graders I left in 2011 have now graduated from high school. I shut down my teacher facebook and posted that they could all be friends with the real “Mel Kidwell.” If anyone needs to worry about the content of their facebook pages, it’s probably the kids in college! Clicking through their photos from prom and graduation, I can’t believe how much time has passed, and how quickly. Five years is forever in middle school and high school, but it has felt like nothing to me.
Five years before I left those 7th grade students, I was returning home from Madagascar. Somehow, the five years that passed between Madagascar and Indonesia seem longer than the five years between Indonesia and now. One of those years was spent teaching in France, but it was clear to me then that that year, along with my two years in the Peace Corps, were temporary interludes –rumschprega of sorts – before returning home and “becoming an adult.” And that is what I tried to do – I moved back to Columbus, Ohio, and taught in the district I had graduated from for four years. Those years feel solid, grounded, connected to my youth. I lived with my sister, in the same city as my family. I worked with some of my former teachers. I had a strong community and my life was incredibly full.
The last five years feel different. I spent two years in Indonesia, one year selling Christmas sweaters, living in India, and hiking the Camino de Santiago (in succession, not concurrently), and then two years in grad school. My life is still full, but I’ve spent a lot more time alone. I’ve spent more time lonely. A lot of my relationships have been one-on-one rather than in interconnected communities. I’ve lived away from my family and a lot of my closest friends, and haven’t seen them more than every few months or years. The past five years feel unmoored, astray. Whatever they’re connected to hasn’t yet manifested itself, but I think they’re connected to something. That summer five years ago, was a turning point in my life. I think I had realized that becoming an adult wasn’t a simple process of settling down. At least not for me. For me, it was about letting go, accepting uncertainty, being open to surprises. Sometimes that has been hard, but mostly it has been thrilling. It’s scary to not be sure of the path your life is taking. But even scarier, for me, is not starting the journey. I know what is behind me. It was good, and it will always be there. But I believe that whatever is ahead of me will outstrip my wildest imaginings.