And so it starts

Okay, so today finds me at the end of my first week of non-teaching. How do I feel? Strange. So much 'newness' to be discovered.

Firstly, it's quiet. I mean, dead quiet. There are no young kiddies scrambling every which way for my attention, there's no playground duty, no bells going, it's quiet. This may be because, in actual fact, there are no kids. A whole day can pass by where I don't encounter a single person younger than me. I never knew this kind of world existed.

Secondly, as much as I felt being a teacher and running my own classroom automatically created work independence, it actually was only because of the nice fluffy encapsulating boundaries of student needs and curriculum choices. When studying in ecology, you're dealing with species in the wild and the subsequent huge degrees of unpredictability that this generates; it's like being taken blindfolded on a trust game, except that my guiding partner happens to be a feathery expert hunter, with rather large talons.

Thirdly: time. Time itself is a marvellous thing. Who ever knew there was so much of it to be had. On my first day, I was finished and home by 3pm. 3pm!!! I really did feel quite unsettled. Seriously, what do people do at 3pm? A teacher's work-day doesn't usually end until at least 5-5.30pm, not to mention the planning and prep we do after dinner, so this whole having extra time thing is a novelty that I have only just started to explore.

So, 3 and a half days into the academic year, I think I'm qualified to say that this teacher fellowship thing rocks! I'm looking forward to a year of peace and solitude, adult company, pursuit of knowledge and having the time to enjoy all this. For any kiwi teachers reading, if even one of these aspects appeals to you, it's time to apply for a Royal Society of New Zealand Awarded Teacher Fellowship. So far, it's all it promises and much more.