Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before
“Nothing’s changed
I still love you, oh, I still love you
Only slightly, only slightly less
Than I used to, my love”
Actually don’t. I know you’ve heard this one.
One of the truths of writing a (formerly) consistent daily blog in May is that a lot of the same things happen—holidays such as May Day, Beltane, Memorial Day, and My Birthday. Significant events such as finals week, grading, and the end of the semester. And seasonal hallmarks like the start of summer. Since I’m writing at the same time over and over, I tend to write about these topics over and over.
At first I was thinking this might be a bit tedious—I need to come up with some new ideas—but then I realized I do come up with new ideas because I have new experiences. No one May is the same as any other May. And to prove it, I have linked my last three May 8-ish/end-of-semester blog posts below.
2021: School’s out
Of course, when I re-read old blog posts I want to revise them. I won’t—unless I find a typo or a really obvious grammatical error. This one is a bit awkward, but I like the end—the notion of backing off the small details for a while and just seeing the whole image.
2022: Stop hitting yourself
Well now this is an interesting moment! I really thought I was going to give up on teaching and move into this blogging and workshop-giving space full-time. But I came back to teaching—I’ll never stop hitting myself. It just feels too good when I stop.
2023: (Redacted)
At the end of the 2023 school year, I had jury duty. It overlapped with final week so I had to move my finals online and couldn’t come to campus. But then the court case ended (one of the lawyers passed out in court—very dramatic) and I came back to campus but my final was online but I had to come back to work except my students weren’t there…. It was a confusing end to the term.
In May 2024, I was finishing up my one year of teaching high school, which ended in June (barbaric). And looking forward to starting my new tenure-track life at City Colleges of Chicago. In May of 2025, I was in the throes of a life-altering romance and did not have time, energy, or will to write.
From May 2026, I look back over the last five years of writing and life and realize how much has changed. Same person, same place, same month but totally different story. Through these details, I see a narrative of pushing into the literal and metaphorical summer of each year, every year, with a final burst of energy and blooming ambition, with stalwart commitment and sinewy flexibility. And just touching the undocumented, but fully lived, summers of the past couple of years, I reexperience the boundless joy and blistering heartbreak of that time.
Nothing’s change and so has everything. Glad you didn’t stop me.
