I've been working on an early reader chapter book called
Wendell the World's Worst Wizard. (I'm co-writing it with Christy). I'm at a place where I'm comfortable with my writing. I'm even okay calling myself a good writer. But I'm still insecure about my drawing. It's one thing to post round-faced doodles where the goal is the punch-line and the sketching is more of a side effect. But this feels different. I'm actually trying on the visual side (see the picture above for a scene from the book). The truth is that I've always loved to draw. I've always loved to craft stories and write poetry. But those are the parts that I've kept the most private. And I'm just now at a place where I am comfortable taking a book that we're making for our kids and publishing it for the world. So, it has me thinking about my teacher friends and the parts that they reveal. My admiration for Stephen Davis increased when I saw his photography. The same goes for Tony Baldaraso. I'm sure I would love Michael Doyle's blogs regardless, but there are moments when his work turns poetic and personal and I see a different side of a science teacher. Or when I hear Chris Lehmann totally explain Ultimate strategy and reminisce on his days zipping the Frisbee back and forth. Or watching Jabiz Raisdana perform a ballad. Or listening to Tom Panarese geek out about comic books and culture. I used to believe that people hid the worst sides of themselves. Masks were meant to put forward a "better self" and keep the messy, sinful, dark side quiet. But the hard truth is that we often hide the best parts of ourselves: the funny stories, the hidden hopes, the talents that we're not entirely sure are really talents, the tragedies and the strength we've gained from the experience. I'm not against privacy. I get it. We can't reveal everything. But the best, most unexpected part of this whole PLN concept has been getting to know people and being constantly surprised by the best parts of them that aren't apparent on a Twitter profile. So, as I start this school year, I am grateful of this reality: I will meet a group of strangers and by the end of the year some will still be distant. But many of them will entrust me with knowing their stories and their lives and their hopes and their talents that aren't obvious at first.
