I refer to my youth, in a very sheltered family environment, as the “Dark Ages.”  I was a very average 11th grade student of the German language at my high school.  Still, I was proud of learning the language of my ancestors.  My great-grandparents came from Germany and I was fascinated thinking about the fact that I could have been growing up in another, far-off country.  I was somewhat interested in history, both my family’s and the world’s.  Up until this point in school, I earned an “A” in giving half-effort.  As a result, most of my other grades were lower.  For the most part, I felt like a drifter with no serious interests and it stunned me whenever I heard a friend or acquaintance profess a strong desire to pursue a specific profession or vocation.

My family history is one of apathy, lethargy, and little money.  When the opportunity to be part of an exchange program with a German high school came up, the answer from my parents was a bewildered, “No.”  When the exchange students arrived at our school, I was fascinated.  I’m not sure I had even left Pennsylvania at that point and the thought that these kids my own age, sitting in front of me, were from Germany, 4,000 miles away was amazing to me.  Over the three weeks they were around, I developed an ache in my body that told me I was missing something.  Up until then, I had never seriously considered that anything mattered outside America, or even outside of myself!  Watching and occasionally interacting with these kids made me yearn to be part of the world community.  I felt the weight of my “Dark Age” youth and I knew that the world offered unlimited possibility, if I was only brave enough to make a move.

One of the exchange students rode my school bus home to a neighboring housing development.  She was an incredibly nice person who always had a smile on her face.  As a sixteen year old boy, I was not in the habit of approaching foreign girls I barely knew.  As the ache inside me rose again, I knew I had to act.  Before it was too late, I asked Angelika if we could be “pen pals.”  She immediately agreed and we have been corresponding for over 30 years.  My wife and I have visited her in Germany twice and she has also visited.  This was one of the first experiences when I felt connected to the wider world.  Knowing and communicating with someone from Europe gave me a different perspective on both the small and larger things in life.  This small event has impacted my life in so many ways that changed me from the person I was.   Finding the courage to talk to Angie that day had a profound impact on my life and who I am.

I don’t think, to this day, she realizes what an important thing our relationship has been for me.  I am quite sure I got the better of the deal.  She was already more worldly, educated, empathetic, and compassionate than I.  As I reflect on what it means to be “connected,” my mind drifts back to my feelings about striking up this relationship.  When I made the connection with Angie, I instantly felt part of something larger than myself.  I felt as though I had access to things I never would have had otherwise.  I felt part of the world community in a way I never thought possible and it was magic.

As a professional, as the years tick by, it can sometimes seem as though I’m entering a new dark age.  But something always happens to snap me out of it.  Attending a conference, working with younger, more energetic teachers, or taking a course jolts my senses and the excitement returns.  I want to be a part of this current teaching profession.  The one that’s happening right now.  What are energetic, excited, engaging teachers doing right now?  I really want to know.  I want to be part of it.