Last night marked my last night of teaching for the semester.
And you know how it is this time of year.
I’m tempted to say, "I’m grateful for the academic calendar. For winter break. For fresh starts."
And that’d all be true, but it’s kind of tired-sounding.

The truth is, I’m also glad for the opportunity to teach. 
I’m grateful for my college and my classes and my students.
I’m grateful for the chance to share the work that I love with other people, to talk about and practice the craft with them, to witness both their glee and their struggles as they take to the page.

Each time I share a stack of library books with my students, I learn anew.
Each time I try to articulate how something can be done or why it might work, I learn anew.
Each time I critique a student’s story, I learn anew.

Teaching is good for me, as a writer and a person, and I’m grateful that I get the chance to do it.
And, yep, I’m grateful for winter break, too.