I'll Always be a Teacher

 I’ll always be an educator--a teacher--at least in my mind. Even now, at 73+ with my white hair and weathered hands, that identity clings to me, woven into the fabric of who I am.

Retirement might have closed the door on my official "teaching" days, but it didn’t close off the teacher within me. Once you’ve been an educator, that title sticks around, like a stubborn stain. Or maybe it’s more like a tattoo—one you carry with pride, forever a part of your story.

Over the years, it’s become clear that teaching isn’t just about the lesson plans or the chalkboards/smartboards; it’s a way of looking at life, a mindset that’s hard to shake. I see learning moments everywhere—in conversations with my grandkids, quiet reflections while painting, and even reading the newsfeeds. Teaching makes you see the world a little differently, with a lens of curiosity, always looking for connections, lessons, and insights to share.

The funny thing about being a teacher now in your seventies is that you become a student, too, just in new ways. I often feel like I’m learning just as much from the younger generations as they might have from me. My grandkids teach me about the newest gadgets, show me how to navigate social media, and give me insights into what it means to grow up in today’s world. Their lives are full of digital shortcuts and modern twists that we would’ve never imagined. I ask questions, and I’m not afraid to let them teach me. The roles might switch, but the heart of it stays the same. Teaching, in its best form, is just a shared experience of learning together.

Looking back, I think about the values I tried to instill over the years—kindness, curiosity, resilience. Those aren’t the kinds of lessons that change with time. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize that it’s the simple, timeless values that matter most. It wasn’t the rules or history dates that I hope my students remember, but the feeling of knowing that someone believed in them. Teaching isn’t always about what you say; often, it’s about how you make people feel.

What I love most about teaching, though, is that it builds a kind of legacy. Not in the grand, fame-worthy sense, but in a quieter way. Each student, each person you’ve touched, carries a piece of what you shared. They might not remember the exact words, but they remember how they felt in your presence. And that feeling ripples outward, passing from one generation to the next. I see that ripple every now and then—when I hear from an old student or when someone messages me to say they remember something I said.

So at 73+, I’m still an educator. And I think, no matter how many years I live, I always will be.

Be at peace.