Somehow my students and I got to talking about new years resolutions today. If you’re wondering how a lesson on writing and evaluating expressions using variables somehow turned into a 20-minute conversation about resolutions, well, so am I. And your guess truly is as good as mine. I was there, running the class for god’s sake, and I’m not entirely sure how a conversation that begins with “so what does x equal in number 5?” ends with me saying “…so that’s why I thought a watermelon was growing in my stomach.”
I mentioned last week how I feel about making resolutions for the new year [to recap: hate them yet always make them]. During our resolutions conversation today, the commencement of which will forever remain a mystery, one student shared their family tradition of creating goals for the year in five words or less, with a bonus if you can create a one-word goal. So we all got to thinking. I decided that none of my resolutions for this year had enough impact to be summarized into one word, so I’m trying again. One goal, in the fewest amount of words possible; ideally only one.
I used to walk through the mall skipping and skirting around so the only tiles I touched were the tan ones. Black was obviously lava and she who touched would instantly turn to ash. I would watch two raindrop fall down the window and pretend it was a race. The one I wanted to win always did, even though sometimes I had to change my mind to ensure this impressive success rate. Whenever I drank bottled soda I would pour bits into the bottle cap and take shots of it. The important things in life should always be practiced at an early age. And, of course, once I swallowed a watermelon pit and freaked out when an older cousin told me that means a watermelon tree was going to grow in my stomach.
This year, I plan to do all of these things again, at least metaphorically. And maybe even a few literally. This year, I’m going to focus on being young. Forever young.