Getting a Master's Degree in a Year

My main concern upon entering graduate school was, to be perfectly honest, that I would have enough creative outlets in the absence of numerous outdoor adventures. Instead of heading to Smith Rocks to do battle with my nemesis Cool Ranch Flavor (5.11b), I've been teaching middle schoolers about convection. Instead of coating my bike with Mac Forest clay, I've been churning out word documents like a champ. And in place of Ice climbing in the gorge the other day with Greg and Ian, at 6:37 am I picked up some christian crank (coffee) on the way to school and started cutting out laminated papers for the students.

I won't lie, this hasn't been an easy transition. In the past, I have decided to drive to Red Rocks at 11pm (on an impulse) on more than one occasion. Those days are gone, at least for now, and in their place are deadlines, forms, reflections, research and stress. Despite all that, the past few months have been a truely rewarding experience. From my numerous mistakes, a stronger and more adaptable Jake has emerged, one who gets a kick out of the ever reflective process that a school teacher goes through each day.

I'm not doing this for the pay or the health benefits, even in these uncertain times. Sure, those things will be nice. I'm not even doing it for June, July and August, which are thought by many to be one of the greatest perks of being a teacher. We all need something to throw ourselves at. Something that is bigger than us, and this is what I've chosen. It's been a fun ride so far, even though it's not in the format I am familiar with (snow, rocks, and knobby bike tires are seldom involved). The kids I teach show me flashes of brilliance every so often, and it truely is a wonderful thing when I get to witness it. I'm pretty lucky, I get to learn something every day.

That said, raise your glasses or mugs in honor of some wintertime fun in the woods. Maybe I'll see you out there. Off to go bouldering!