Harvard – Author Sarah Angleton

In 1880, led by then University President Charles W. Eliot, Harvard began a program of granting sabbatical to its professors. A concept derived from Old Testament Biblical tradition, this year of rest from the demands of teaching would include half the normal salary and could only take place once every seven years.

Not how I’ve been spending my time. But wouldn’t it be lovely? Image by Lukas from Pixabay

Though Harvard was the first to apply the concept, several universities followed suit over the course of the next few years. Today, of course, the sabbatical is a common occurrence in university settings, but it is also surging in the corporate world, where more and more companies are recognizing productivity benefits in allowing their high level employees to take a little time to switch directions and clear their minds a bit.

I’m a big fan of taking a minute, and have from time to time found in my own creative journey, the need to do so. Sometimes when the creative juices are less willing to flow, a walk or a day spent in some other kind of work, has often been helpful to get them going again. But the notion of a full year away has always been a lot to imagine.

It turns out that even though corporate sabbaticals are beginning to become more common, a good percentage still begin with unplanned events, like an unexpected health challenge or family emergency. I can’t claim either was the impetus for the sabbatical I have recently found myself on.

Also not how I’ve been spending my time But it probably should be. Image by Pexels from Pixabay

I’m sure that those of you who follow this blog very closely have noticed that I haven’t posted in quite a while. I apologize for disappearing without explanation, but I honestly didn’t realize how much I needed to step away.

Many of you know that this school year I took on a full-time position for the first time since my children were born, the youngest of whom is a high school senior. I knew that in doing so, I would be limiting the time I could spend writing. I just didn’t know how much I would benefit from that. I also didn’t know that it would extend to the blog.

I do sometimes miss writing, but for the moment, I’m happy putting my creative energy elsewhere, and I’m hopeful that when I return it will be with renewed enthusiasm. There is a book simmering away on the backburner, perhaps growing thicker and richer for the neglect. There are jotted notes about potential future blog posts and essays and short stories, their flavors melding in the back of the fridge. And though I have thought up several excellent mixed metaphors, there remain exactly zero poems on the horizon.

This break has not been a resignation nor a retirement. I’ve come to think of it as a necessary sabbatical. I’m not sure precisely when yet, but I’ll be back.

It’s back to school time in my corner of the world, which means a couple of things: 1. It’s time to hit the Dixon Ticonderoga pencil sales and stock up 2. I’ve pretty much given up on watering my garden. And 3. I will (hopefully) be blogging more consistently every week.

It’s possible I have a tad obsession with these pencils.

Thank you to those of you who have still popped in to say hello through the summer as I followed a more casual posting schedule. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been pretty inconsistent about visiting the blogs of others, but I have high hopes of scooping up that dropped ball as well.

Even though my kids are no longer small and in need of constant supervision and entertainment through the summer months, there’s still something satisfying about beginning a new, regular schedule. My youngest son is a senior in high school this year, my oldest is beginning his second year of college, and I will be working at school in a full-time capacity for the first time since my college boy was a baby.

It feels good and right to all be participating in the wonderful tradition of public education that began in the United States in 1647 as a way to thwart the schemes of the Devil. That’s when the Massachusetts Bay Colony crafted a law firmly stating the guidelines necessary to ensure that its young people would be able to read the Bible and wouldn’t be susceptible to tricky demonic scheming.

All the desks have been scrubbed of bubblegum and graffiti, ready for the new year. Image by WOKANDAPIX from Pixabay

The law, known colloquially as the Old Deluder Satan Law because it begins with the words: “In being one chief project of that old deluder, Satan, to keep men from the knowledge of Scripture . . .” was a more specific version of a similar law put into place in 1642.

The earlier law claimed that the responsibility to educate the young fell to the community. It’s replacement expanded on that by instituting firm guidelines, stating that a community of at least fifty households must appoint a public educator. If there were a hundred households, then there needed to be a qualified master who could prepare the young folks for Harvard where they could take Satan-fighting classes like ENGLISH 183:”Taylor Swift and her World,” GERMAN 260: “Writing the Body in the Posthuman Age,” or GEN ED 1090: “What is a Book?”

These are actual course offerings from the current Harvard catalog. Take that, you old deluder!

Take that, you old deluder! Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay

Of course our public schools are more secular these days, but there’s still some truth to the assumption that an educated public is one that is more analytical and is therefore less susceptible to being misled by those with nefarious intentions.

I’d like to think that’s true, though the tone and quality of much of our public discourse leads me to believe we still have a lot of work to do. And so, I guess it’s time to get back to it. I’m armed with a stockpile of Dixon Ticonderogas, and I am ready.

Bring on the school year!