Living a Writer’s Life by Erin Vogler

I had glorious plans for a tightly written and polished post on something significant I’ve noticed in this life of teaching, writing, and reading.

Ah, the best laid plans…

The last couple of weeks have been a menagerie of highs and lows, all of which have left me pretty tired, constantly questioning, and just about ready to go into shutdown mode as my means of coping.

Instead of shutdown, I went to my notebook, and over a couple of days, I created a list of the things I was noticing. It’s messy, and not all of the thinking is fully flushed out, but if you bear with me, I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.

Recently I’ve noticed…

The more I write, the more I notice, and the more I notice, the more I write.

When I read the work of smart teacher-writers, I have to remember that I’m one too - that I don’t have to change everything, or that everything I want to try is necessary RIGHT NOW. I get excitement overload and I want to try all of it. When I try trying all of it, I’m left exhausted by the overload of ideas and enthusiasm. I’ve noticed that in these moments, I’m losing myself.

I’ve noticed that I need to come up with some sort of plan for taking in all of the smart writing and ideas from these teacher-writers I respect. I need to figure out a way to take it all in, to process it, and to differentiate between what might work in the “right now” and what I want to put aside and save for later - but in a place or way that is easy to access later, while planning lessons and/or while working on my own writing.

I’ve noticed that I go really hard trying to be like the person whose work I’ve just read, and that’s where it really goes off the rails. I can’t be Erin Vogler trying to be Penny Kittle (just one example of so many whose work I find myself considering and emulating). I have to be Erin Vogler trying something that came from the wisdom of Penny’s experience. I have to try things when, where, and with whom, they make sense - not just because I’ve read or seen this great new idea.

I’ve noticed that I undervalue my own experience and creativity. In 19 years of teaching, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve come up with an idea that really helps kids and not written or told someone else about it. I’ve noticed that, for some reason, I figure other people won’t be that interested. I have some work to do here...

I’ve noticed that my students grow as writers when they have choice, individual support, time, space, a volume and variety of opportunities, and focused group lessons that scaffold skills that serve as a way to give both roots and wings. It’s not a formula or a recipe, there is no set amount of any of these ingredients because the needs of each individual and group are different. I’ve noticed that I am my best, and my students are at theirs, when I am constantly tinkering.

I’ve noticed that every move I make as a teacher is better when I lead with and give grace to others, and especially, to myself.

I’ve noticed that a To Do List and plan of prioritizing what needs to be done has helped prevent that “in the weeds” feeling that used to happen in both my personal and professional lives.

I’ve noticed that holding myself accountable and being consistent trickles down to my students - when they see me being consistent in my skills and habits (both ELA related and not), they find ways to do so as well when working toward accomplishing goals.

I’ve noticed that I say “but” a lot more than I say “and” - and I’m working on changing that.

I’ve noticed that I spend a lot of time teaching, reading, and writing, and not as much time on the other habits and activities that also fuel me, like spending time with friends, hiking, yoga, cooking and baking, hunting in antique stores for the Pyrex pattern and Longaberger baskets I collect, traveling, doing creative projects…


Which leads me to the place I promised I’d get. I can still write well when I lead the life of pattern that I find myself frustrated and exhausted by lately. I can live inside that bubble for long periods of time and feel like I’m growing as a person, as a teacher.

Until I can’t. Then, it feels like I can’t breathe. That I need a long nap. That I need to run away. That I need to do anything to break out of the routine that is stifling me.

I was struggling, really anxious, actually, about getting this post written. I’d been in my bubble for too long and was stuck.

So I went outside, set up a little workshop space, and stained the pieces of the shelf my dad and I are in the process of designing and building together. I broke out of my pattern, and cracked open my thinking, and that leads me to the most important thing I’ve noticed in all of this:

It is impossible to live the life of a writer if you’re not out there LIVING a life.



Erin Vogler cannot believe she is in the final weeks of her 19th year of teaching at Keshequa Middle/High School in the Genesee Valley of Western New York. She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024, Instagram @mrsvogler3024, and at her blog (that has been radio silent since the March Slice of Life Challenge, but will soon speak again, she swears) https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/ .