I happily hopped into the passenger side, naively prepared to enjoy the view as we began the trek to his starting point. We went up. We wound around. We went up some more. Hairpin turns yielded thousand-foot drops that seemed inches away from the car door. I grew increasingly quiet and serious during the 18.7-mile-long, 6,204-foot crawl up the one-vehicle-at-a-time, unpaved, NO GUARDRAILS road. Only later did I discover it has the reputation of being the scariest road in Washington. At the top, I gave my husband a little pep talk for his journey ahead, and he gave me a little pep talk for mine.
We were so high up that there was no radio service, no cell service, and no saved playlist to take my mind off my fear. I made my way down in white-knuckled terror at a speed a tortoise could have surpassed while praying, singing songs like "I Wanna Go Home" and "Jesus, Take the Wheel," and reminding myself to breathe. I was so frightened that tears of relief erupted when pavement came back in sight.
When was the last time you did something scary? What about in your classroom? Are you being asked to let go of a long-held practice in favor of new research? Have you switched grade levels or schools after years of settled comfort? I will never forget working as a coach with a second-grade teacher who was afraid to give her students choice during Daily 5. We took that hill together, and I can honestly share that she experienced exhilaration when we hit the smooth pavement of those results. The view of a room with highly independent, engaged students is stunning, too.
So, whatever is scaring you right now, follow my mountain example: Hold on tight, go slow, breathe. It is quite possible that your fear will turn to exhilaration, too.
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