Flying

It used to be I couldn't understand why someone would give up everything they worked for to move to a new country and start over, unless they were in a war-ravaged place or somewhere there's no upward mobility. In countries with a poor economy or overpopulation, it's so hard to get out. But why would someone leave a place like the United States?

A while back, I asked myself what I'd do if the economy crashed and I lost everything? I decided I'd be fine. I'd get another job. I'd make money. I'd live. It wouldn't be the end of things. It would actually be sort of the beginning again. I think that's what's in the immigrant's mind.

So here I am in New Zealand, nearing the end of my year's contract. I feel like I'm about to jump on a twisty slide and I can't see the landing spot. I have to let go and see where I end up. It's a little frightening, but better than sitting at the top forever, waiting. 

I've thought of staying at the university, but I don't make a very good teacher. I'm not detailed enough and I'd rather laugh than be stern. This department operates so differently from me that I fit in better with the students than the staff, which is probably not the point. None of my professional strengths are being used here, which also makes it challenging to stay.

I've wanted to do something that makes more of an impact on the world. I've looked into research, in areas like macular degeneration or otherwise, but nothing is certain. 

What I do know is that I can't come back to the States, not now, perhaps never. It feels a bit like when I went away to university for the first time. I'm flying freely, uncaged from my old life. Anything is possible.

Why some teachers last only a year?

I've decided this teaching thing is really hard. Even just supervising in clinic. It sounds easy. I can tell myself, it's like having highly trained technicians do the whole exam and then you just have to sign off on it. But no. That's not the case. I have to think through the whole exam and figure out the missing pieces and then try to help the student understand so they don't make the same mistake next time.

Sometimes they get it; sometimes they think I'm an idiot. Sometimes I think I'm an idiot! No one knows all the answers and unfortunately rarely is anything black and white. In this setting, students want black and white answers. I don't have them.

There are the students who are really keen, who can be a joy, but also require extra effort because they want to learn. There are the ones who don't want to be here in the first place, let alone do anything over and above. It's hard to care about teaching a blank face.

At the end of the day, I often leave feeling anxious, and also like my energy has been sucked out of me. After 8-9 hours of students milling about with charts and questions, needing signatures, asking advice on case presentations, I just want to go home to bed. Yes, even if it is 6:30.

To you teachers out there, I salute you. It's a tough job. Regardless of the amount of appreciation the students show, the energy drain is in a negative direction. I imagine it's a little like having children. Rewarding and very tough. Only hopefully I'd have a little more incentive to stick around.

Leadership is solving problems.

The day soldiers stop bringing you their problems is the day
you have stopped leading them.

They have either lost confidence that you can help
or concluded you do not care.

Either case is a failure of leadership. ~Colin Powell

A day in the life... of Sara

6:24AM Wake up. Check watch. Not time yet.

6:30AM Mechanical greeting from cell phone, "It's time to get up! The time is 6:30." Repeats several times unless press snooze.

6:40AM "It's time to get up! The time is 6:40." Shut off alarm.

6:43AM Get out of bed. Stumble to bathroom.
What to wear? With only five outfits, the thought process goes like this: "Have I worn it yet this week? Does it smell?" Ok then.
Brave mirror (luckily can only see from chest up). Assess hair situation. If sticking up, apply water or hair paste as needed.
Insert contacts or select matching glasses for chosen outfit.

7:03AM Leave house. Walk to coffee shop. Meet same 60 year old lady on her morning exercise walk who wears cool metal magenta or red glasses every day, say "Morning."
Continue walking.

7:18AM Arrive at Kokako coffee shop. Greet Sam the skateboarder barista, "Morning, how are you?"
"I can't complain. Same as usual?"
"Yep."
Pour glass of water. Pick up New Zealand Herald. Select seat for the day. (Do not sit in same place every day, this would be dull.)

7:30AM "Long black" is delivered to my seat in small aqua-blue cup and saucer. (Long black is like an Americano with less water.)
Read paper, people watch, journal.

8:08AM Walk to street crossing. Push button. (If not on time, may be up to 5 minutes wait to cross street.)
While waiting, notice traffic piling up. Think how lucky I am to be walking.
Cross the street and walk up and down several hills through the Auckland Domain (a park) to the University. Admire beauty. Amazed again at lovely commute. Try to avoid psycho groundskeepers who drive riding mowers like Aucklanders drive cars. (Can they possibly mow any grass down at that speed?)
Wonder if I am getting into better shape with all this walking.

8:28AM Arrive at University. Enter building, use badge to get through security and walk up 5 flights of stairs, mildly wiped out. Wonder when it will get any easier.

8:30AM Pick up student/patient roster for the day. Greet front desk staff.
Debrief students. Read email, grade exams, consult, check patients, etc.

12:45PM Lunch. Walk across street to Domain Park. Sit under tree. Read. People watch. Sometimes joined by colleagues.

1:30PM Back at clinic. Walk up stairs. Still out of breathe.
Repeat morning schedule.

5:30PM Go home. Another walk in the park. Or lollygag around town, taking up to two hours to get there, sometimes with Ursula.

Evening Varied. Plop on couch. Read. Listen to music. Research travel destinations. Reflect on the meaning of life. Shower. Wonder what will happen in the next year.

9:30/10:00PM Crawl into single trundlebed. Bedtime.