Writing With Abandon

Reflections and ramblings about life as an educator, writer, reader, knitter, and over-thinker. Trying to do the writing only I can do.

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about

I’m Amy. A born and raised New Yorker, currently living in Miami. Here to reflect on my experiences as an educator and learner, working things out as I write.

  • Working in the Travel Industry

    This morning I read Maite’s slice about the goodbye at the end of her 3-week trip to Australia, loving the lines at the end where she reflects on how travel is often less about places than it is about people and the connections you make.

    Two days ago, I saw a post on Instagram about how people change their lives more often after travel than therapy — travel shakes you out of autopilot, shows you other possibilities for life, temporarily removes social roles, adds controlled uncertainty, and allows learning through movement and emotion (Daniel Chidiac).

    Both of these posts got me thinking more about travel and specifically my new job, which is in the travel industry. So, I figured today was as good a time as ever to slice about what the heck it is that I do now that I’m not a teacher!

    Since the end of July, I’ve been working as the client engagement manager at Insight Global Education. Say what now?

    Let me start with who I work for: Insight is a small Canadian-American company that designs hands-on, experiential travel programs for students. Learning and local expertise is at the heart of what we do — these aren’t your typical group tours. In fact, our programs aren’t “tours” at all. Every single travel program is unique and customized for the schools that travel with us. 5 days, 7 days, 12 days, these aren’t “volunteer tourism” programs either. Our philosophy is that people shouldn’t travel somewhere in order to do or perform, but rather to learn from.

    As client engagement manager, I lead the work that we do with all of our partner schools. Right now, that means I manage the majority of our school accounts, and need to be in-the-know about the school accounts that fall under my colleagues’ management.

    And what does managing a school account mean?

    Well, I work with schools and teachers from the initial program request — determining both the educational goals as well as the logistical constraints like travel dates, budget, chaperone ratio, accommodation needs, etc. — through proposal development and student recruitment, and then if they reach the minimum number of students, I work with them through all the logistics that are needed ahead of departure, like gathering student health and diet info, getting waivers signed, making sure they’ve got their preferred flight paths, holding pre-departure calls with families and chaperones, and following up after the program ends for feedback. Throughout all of this, I work with our ops team who are the ones doing all that logistical planning on the travel side of things.

    I also get to travel a few times a year myself! Along with local guides, all of our Insight programs have a global facilitator, who helps take the logistical piece off of the teacher chaperones’ plates so that teachers can focus on their students’ well-being and learning. The facilitator highlights the educational goals every day of the program through questions of the day and daily reflections. Aside from attending our annual staff retreat and facilitator training or work conferences, I get to travel as a facilitator myself a couple times a year. In a couple weeks, I’m heading to facilitate a program in the Yukon in northwest Canada, and in May, I’ll be going to Australia.

    It’s a completely different job from teaching, but there’s still a lot of variety in what I do (one of the things I loved about teaching). I work with teachers and schools daily, work directly with students when I facilitate, and get to follow along on all of our programs through the facilitators’ daily updates. The feedback from them and our teachers lets me know I am still making a positive impact on students’ lives, even though I’m not in the classroom anymore.

    If you’re a high school teacher whose school runs travel programs, I definitely encourage you to check us out. Our new website just launched this week! And who knows, I’ll probably be the first person you connect with 🙂

  • Acclimated

    It’s 62 degrees in Miami, misty rain, and I’m standing outside waiting for my Lyft to pick me up after a doctor’s check-up with a new PCP. I’m wearing a cotton sweater and a jean jacket, but my hands are freezing, fingernails turning purple under the pink gel polish. I’m shifting my weight from my left foot to my right foot to get some movement in and try to warm myself up, but to no avail. I only start to thaw once I hop into the warmth of the Honda CR-V that picks me up, open the Jetpack app, and start moving my fingers to write this slice.

    I repeat. It’s 62 degrees.

    When did I become so acclimated to the Florida warmth and sun that my body feels SIXTY-TWO DEGREES as cold?

    I remember studying abroad in Barcelona in the spring of 2012 and wanting to break out a dress and sandals when it was 62 degrees (but refraining because then I’d definitely look like the guiri I was).

    Or in New York every spring when the temps hit the sixties, rejoicing with the rest of the city by removing our heavy layers and basking in the spring weather.

    But since living in Miami for almost five years? I’m comfortable in 80-degree weather. I get chilly when it’s cloudy and in the 70s. I get downright cold when it’s in the 60s. And let’s not think about weather colder than that!

    Granted, this morning I fasted in case they needed to take any blood, and I didn’t wear any wool which would have helped. I also didn’t expect the rain so early, nor the 12-minute wait for the Lyft.

    But the acclimation (acclimatization?) has been well underway for a while now, and it’s not just to do with the temperature.

    In January, when I spent a week and a half in British Columbia, I couldn’t function with the sun rising “so late” and the sky so overcast that I couldn’t even tell when it had risen.

    Miami has spoiled me. And it makes me a bit worried for when we eventually move away from here, to a place with real seasons once more. My knitting heart will be happy, but I know I’ll feel the impact of not having mostly 365 days of sun.

    Because even when it rains in Miami, the sun usually comes out to play afterwards. Big, dramatic showers and storms followed by epic rainbows and sunsets (literally!).

    It’s the pull and tug of my feelings about this city that’s now been my home for a seventh of my life.

    Traffic and lack of good public transit? Hate.

    Ability to go to the pool most weekends? Love.

    Anyway. My hands are warm. 10 minutes from home and ready to jump into work.

    But first I know I’ll need a hot tea, my shearling slippers, and a snuggle with my warm pup.

  • What words?

    Two years ago during the Slice of Life challenge, I wrote about my friendship with Ariel, and the messages we wrote to each other in stolen moments of our days (my early morning, her commute).

    Ariel is my best friend, and she lives in Israel. Our text exchanges are a bit different now.

    “Only had one siren last night.”

    “Had 3 sirens last night, soooo tired but doing our best.”

    “First night we didn’t have any sirens in our area!!!”

    “Going down for an alarm.”

    There’s also some others that are different now. Those ultrasounds led to a beautiful baby boy being born in September 2024. His smile is everything and we call him little muffin.

    I don’t really have words to describe all of the feelings that swirl around inside of me when I think about Ariel living over there.

    I am Jewish, but I don’t agree with what the Israeli government and army are doing in Palestine or Iran. I am American, and I don’t agree with what this imposter is doing seemingly every-fucking-where in this world. I am fearful of what will happen in 2028, if elections will even be a possibility then. I am at a loss of what to do to help, to make a difference. I feel guilty for being privileged enough to block all of the war and death out, ignore the news, focus on my life. I feel grateful that I can do it too.

    My best friend is in survival mode, just trying to be a mom of a toddler, navigate a career she’s growing out of, survive in a country at war, exist day-to-day while sirens and shelters interrupt her sleep and her waking hours equally.

    And I am over here and I can do nothing but text with her and provide some escapism when she needs it.

    What words do you put down for this?

  • Little Slices

    I “slept in” until 7am this morning after “staying up” to watch the Oscars. I knew I’d be sacrificing my early morning slice but the extra sleep was worth it. As my day unfolded slowly and steadily, I kept my eyes peeled for little slices along the way.

    Enjoying my breakfast of an egg on toast with avocado, spinach, and HP sauce while I played the NYT games.

    Taking Phoebe for a quick morning walk before my 10am meeting, listening to “Maroon” by Taylor Swift and thinking how much I love her music and could write a whole slice just about how my relationship to her music has changed over the years. No one was out on the street and so I sang along happily, marveling at this lyrical genius.

    Greeting my coworker Teghan on our weekly check-in, her bright smile and voice coming through the screen. She’s been in Norway this month to scout a new program but is working EST hours this week, and I’ve missed her! If we lived in the same city, I know for sure we would hang out.

    Playing Midnights while I plug away at cold outreach emails and budget actuals, work that I usually have to push, but which I’ve had time to work on this week and last. Thank god for spring break and a quiet inbox!

    Pausing to eat lunch, a leftover sweet potato and black bean burrito with hummus and feta. Grateful for the quiet scrolling as I munch away.

    Meeting with the two teacher chaperones I went to D.C. with this past December. Catching up and then talking about what changes we’ll make for this year’s program.

    Having an exploratory call with another client, thinking about what destinations might speak to her middle school teachers, learning more about how they do things at her school.

    Trying to stifle a laugh on my itinerary review call for an upcoming Iceland program when the local guide reads the description about getting the “energy of the forest directly into your veins.” Messaging Teghan about it and reminding myself to breathe and check my face, you’re on camera!!

    Finally logging off, shutting down my external display, and closing all my windows, then changing into shorts for a walk in the neighborhood.

    Talking to both my parents, first my mom and then my dad on two separate 15-minute loops. Passing the Little Free Library (another future slice). Feeling the warm breeze against my skin and face and hair. Grateful to be outside. All the smells of flowers and trees. My allergies — achoo!

    Getting home, kicking off my sandals, and curling up on the couch to type this slice on my phone before I shower, warm up some leftovers, and turn on The Pitt.

    A good Monday, filled with lots of little slices.

  • Birdsong

    Miami was built on what used to be all Everglades. Nowadays, Everglades National Park is less than 50% of what it was before humans started to destroy it in favor of urban housing developments and motorways. In the 1800s, when James John Audubon visited Florida, he wrote: “We observed great flocks of wading birds flying overhead toward their evening roosts …. They appeared in such numbers to actually block out the light from the sun for some time” (nps.gov).

    I always enjoyed sharing that fact with my fifth graders when we learned about the Everglades. It was hard to imagine so many birds filling the skies, especially in downtown Brickell. We’d stare out of our large classroom windows and try to visualize what the sky would look like filling with birds.

    In our new apartment, we look out over a quiet neighborhood filled with trees. We can see the Miami skyline, the sun rising above it every morning with spectacularly colorful displays, entering our home and warming it right up with its light.

    And we can also hear birds. Lots of birds. Hoots, chirps, tweets, trills. Sometimes we can see them flying in flocks, around and around. But mostly we can just hear them in the trees.

    This morning, I decided to slice on the balcony. As soon as I slid open the heavy glass door, I could hear that the birds were out. I even caught a flock as they passed by. I set my phone to record so you could hear them:

    As I finish the slice up, an airplane, that man made bird, flies across the sky, drowning out the sounds.

    The birds keep singing.

    Before I sat down to slice
    While slicing
    After slicing

  • TBR

    Five years ago, I traded in Goodreads for The Storygraph to track the books I read each year along with the books I want to read. I swipe open the app and see:

    Current Reads (3)

    • The Family Remains by Lisa Jewell

    Whipping through it, will probably finish today. Absolutely loving the various characters and how Lisa Jewell manages to write books that you can devour without sacrificing quality of writing.

    • Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

    Reading the interactive illustrated version by MinaLima with P, alternating who reads out loud. Going slower than Sorcerer’s Stone, because, as we all know, Chamber of Secrets is the worst book of the bunch.

    • The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad

    Haven’t picked this one up in weeks. My original idea was to use these essays and prompts to help me slice this month, especially if I didn’t know what to write about, but it’s remained on the bookshelf by the dining table and is now starting to gather dust.

    To-Read Pile (1280 books)

    • The Lion Women of Tehran by Marjan Kamali

    Our next book club read after Untamed by Glennon Doyle (which I’ve read twice, so won’t be re-reading before our meeting). On hold on my Libby app.

    • Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

    Which is sitting on my bedside table stacked on top the following books, also on my TBR:

    • Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art by James Nestor
    • This Much is True by Miriam Margolyes
    • Strong Ground: The Lessons of Daring Leadership, the Tenacity of Paradox, and the Wisdom of the Human Spirit by Brené Brown

    Have briefly started these last two, but am favoring the reads on my Kindle lately, which include the following borrowed and TBR books:

    • My Friends by Fredrik Backman
    • Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao
    • Katabasis by R.F. Kuang
    • Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall
    • The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz
    • Then She Was Gone by Lisa Jewell
    • A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

    And then P sent me an Instagram reel last night that made me bump the following up farther on my TBR, though they all have long waits on Libby:

    • Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
    • Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

    And then Tillie literally just texted me that what she finished reading and is currently reading, thrillers that I know will be my vibe, so they get added too:

    • These Summer Storms by Sarah MacLean
    • My Husband’s Wife by Alice Feeney

    And of course, I can’t forget the ones already on my shelves that I purchased or were gifted to me or I got from a little lending library that I’ve been wanting to read:

    • The Book of Goose by Yiyun Li
    • Money For Couples by Ramit Sethi
    • The Eternaut by Héctor Germán Oesterheld and Francisco Solano López
    • Small Mercies by Dennis Lehane

    I won’t get up to log the rest.

    It’s too many books, I think. Not enough time.

    I’ll probably finish my current read today. Then the dilemma becomes: which of the above should I dive into next?

  • The Alfred to Your Batman

    The Alfred to Your Batman

    Dear Batman,

    I’ve been thinking about our own crossword compatibility since Kim sliced about hers and Brian’s last week. Then, late last night, after one of our typical teamwork moments, you hugged me and said, “Thank you for being the Alfred to my Batman.”

    That’s us.

    You’re out there fighting the bad guys.

    I’m holding you steady with emotional and technical support.

    When we used to work in the same building, you’d send me a message: “How do I readjust image size in Slides?”

    “One sec,” I’d text back. “Okay, share it with me?”

    Then I’d go into full ops mode, open the slides, bing, bam, boom, and voila.

    “Done.”

    “You’re the best!!!”

    Nope, I’m just your Alfred.

    A Google Suite whiz, computer savvy and quick at all things.

    That’s what earned me the nickname Energizer Bunny from my co-teachers all those years ago, after all.

    Batman, I’m happy to keep the Batmobile in shape and maintain the Batcomputer’s smooth operations. Luckily, you’re a great roommate in the Batcave and we split the labor.

    I notice something happening as time goes by though. That scaffolding I helped build so you could climb up high and see the city from above? We’re taking it down piece by piece, because the foundation is strong enough now for you to climb up by yourself.

    And, as we know from my vaso vagal experience just a few weeks ago, sometimes I’m the one who needs an Alfred. And when I do, we easily swap roles. You readily assume Alfred-duties when I need to become Batman in my own life.

    We’re a team. Helping each other work towards our own individual goals while we join forces for the ones we have together.

    I love you, Batman.

    Sincerely,

    Alfred

  • Relatable

    Yesterday, Lauren’s slice about trying to get her roommate to slice made me smile. What her roommate thought wasn’t relatable actually was incredibly relatable to me — working from home and walking around the apartment to get steps in (which both helps your legs from going numb and your smart wearable from buzzing at you to “get up and move”). This isn’t the first time that I’ve commented on someone’s slice about relating to what they think/feel/do.

    It got me thinking about other things that seem completely mundane or normalized to me, but might be relatable to other people. A moment of connection. A “me too!” moment that helps them feel seen.

    So here we go. Can you relate to any of the following?

    • Waking up in the middle of the night to pee
    • Waking up desperate to pee in the morning, even though you already peed in the middle of the night
    • Waking up congested (especially during spring) and needing to blow your nose
    • Your dog climbing into your bed the moment they realize you’re “up” (this might be before your alarm goes off)
    • Using your phone as your alarm and checking your notifications first thing even though you know it’s the worst thing for you
    • Playing the NYT games every morning, in the exact same order every time
    • Worrying that if you do not play the NYT games in the exact same order, something might be “off” about the rest of your day
    • Keeping a bullet journal that’s not as used as it once was but is still your go-to planner method (though you’re open to other suggestions, as you did use Moleskine half planner half notebooks for many years)
    • Moving items from yesterday’s to do list to today’s, day after day
    • Getting the “Time to stand!” Apple Watch notification, even though you’ve been standing for the last twenty minutes (when are they going to change this measurement to include standing without arms swinging?)
    • Walking around the apartment with arms swinging or moving your body around vigorously — kicks, arms flailing, squats — until you get the “You did it!” notification
    • Starting one task and getting distracted when an email or text comes in
    • Talking to your dog as a means of talking to yourself throughout the day
    • Singing as a form of communication (especially effective when annoyed or giving redirection to children)
    • Catching your reflection in the mirror at one specific time of day where the light hits just so, and noticing all the small dark hairs that need plucking
    • Getting more and more chin hairs as you get older (why, universe, why?)
    • Saying hello in the exact same way to the doorman every day, then wondering why you sound like that
    • Not drinking enough water
    • Scrolling on Instagram even though you promised you wouldn’t (self control is hard)
    • Looking at your phone while you’re walking, even though you know you shouldn’t
    • Thinking in “should”s (I should call ___ more, I should work out, I should make my own dinner instead of going out tonight)
    • Overthinking future events that you have no control over
    • Being extra snappy when hungry around your loved ones
    • Thinking about what to pack for upcoming trips way too far in advance (key word: “thinking” — no real action taken)
    • Rewatching a show you’ve seen all the episodes of instead of watching one of the ones on your list of shows to watch
    • Opening the door to the fridge to look inside at what’s there even though you know what’s there

    I could keep going forever but I’m going to stop there as I’m getting hungry for breakfast now!

    What’s something mundane or normalized that you do (and perhaps have sliced about) that someone has connected with?

  • Jack Black Selfie Attack

    After a night of tossing and turning, I’m happy to report that I had a pretty solid sleep last night. I did wake up to pee at four or five, but I wasn’t too upset about it because it happened right at the end of one of the best dreams I think I’ve ever had. Before crawling back into bed for the last hour, I scribbled down some notes on a post-it, because I knew that I’d want to slice about it this morning. Then I fell back asleep with a smile on my lips before my alarm unfortunately woke me up.

    Knitting club

    + fac sleepover

    on the floor

    I was facilitating a travel program with members of my knitting club and we were turning in for the night at an unplanned rest stop (which would never, ever happen). We had to sleep on the cold floors of a restaurant! There were even a few large holes/trap doors in the floor that we had to avoid and that one girl fell through. She was okay though, luckily. It was just her toothbrush that fell all the way down.

    Weirdly, though we weren’t in Barcelona, we had a perfect view of La Sagrada Família. It was some sort of warp in the time-space continuum that allowed for a view like this to happen.

    Garden shop w/

    only chips and

    orchid + boots

    I was back in New York, walking quickly down the street, when I happened to fall in line behind my oldest friend, Rosie, who I haven’t seen in ages, her mom, and another girl I knew from a long time ago (maybe a soccer team? Middle school?). At first I was determined to get to my destination, whatever that was, but my speed walking led me into their view, so I joined them. They were headed to a garden shop cafe, and I figured I could spare a bit of time.

    At the garden shop, they only had ruffle potato chips. I was starving, and kept taking large handfuls to shove in my mouth. I picked up a large vase with water and a baby orchid, ready to be cared for. I also grabbed a little gift basket with rubber boots. We continued eating and chatting.

    Then it was time to check out. The person ahead of me was bummed to see that I’d grabbed the last pair of rubber boots. But when I looked at them and tried them on, I realized that they were huge, which just left me with the orchid in a vase.

    “How can I make sure to care for it?” I asked the guy at the counter, “because you know, I’ve always—”

    “Killed them?” The clerk finished for me. I nodded profusely. “No worries, I can give you some tips.”

    It was at that moment that the front door of the cafe opened up behind him, and in walked—

    MEETING JACK BLACK

    having selfie attack

    Jack Black!

    He swaggered in wearing a t-shirt and a flowy button down, sunglasses, and a smile.

    I immediately put my orchid on the counter and got down on my knees, bowing in child’s prayer before him.

    “Oh my god, oh my god,” I said as I brought my torso and arms up and down. “You are just one of my favorite actors, Jack Black!”

    I stood up and asked if I could hug him. To my delight, he was in a great mood and said yes!

    (Please note that in real life, I have never ever approached a celebrity if I have seen them, except for the few whose orders I took when I worked at Mud Cafe after college. Way too nervous.)

    We hugged and I told him that School of Rock is one of my favorite movies and that I’ve made my fifth graders watch that and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle so many times mainly because I like them so much. He laughed and seemed to nod like, “Yeah, I know. I’m cool.”

    “My boyfriend loves you so much too,” I added. “Would you be willing to take a selfie with me so I can prove to him that I met you?”

    And in this dream, Jack Black not only agreed to take one selfie, but we started having a selfie photo shoot! We posed standing, lying down, on one knee! We made faces, serious and silly! We even kissed for one! (I figured P would forgive me seeing that it was Jack Black and the kissing selfie was a ridiculous puckered lips one.)

    And that’s when I woke up.

    Amazing, amazing dream. Ten out of ten! Keep them coming, subconscious!

  • Tossing and Turning

    The first day of Daylight Savings isn’t what gets me. (And did you know it’s just “Daylight Saving”? But so many of us add the “s” to the end. It feels strange in my mouth to say it the “correct” way.)

    What gets me is the second day.

    On Sunday, due to a late night and early morning, I was actually exhausted by the time 7:30pm (6:30pm) rolled around, and was asleep by 9:30 or so, definitely before 10. So I felt pretty rested on Monday, yesterday.

    But then the evening came and I found myself wide awake, not ready for bed at all.

    I read my book.

    I tried to sleep, but failed.

    So I finished my book (The Family Upstairs by Lisa Jewell).

    Then I downloaded a few more books onto my kindle (sorry, books on my nightstand and books already on my kindle!).

    I closed my eyes, ready for sleep to take me.

    I tossed.

    I turned.

    I somehow finally fell asleep, closer to midnight than I would have liked. I had strange dreams about knitting club and a bunch of Icelandic immigrants at a new yarn shop in town (how I wish that new shop were real!) and a vintage store with lots of jeans but none in my size/style and a free shuttle (not bus, I don’t really know what it was) for wheelchair-bound people to get to the airport.

    And then I woke up around 4:30 to go to the bathroom.

    I got back in bed, cold.

    I tossed.

    I turned.

    I did not fall back asleep.

    So I picked up my phone before the alarm went off at six.

    This morning I have a small medical procedure and I’m nervous about it. They’re going to give me a Valium to calm my nerves, which I’ve only had once before when I was 18 and getting heel surgery. It didn’t have a crazy effect on me, but that was a long time ago. Yet I’m still nervous about being extra drowsy and wondering if I should have asked for the afternoon off. I probably still can, but I do have a client meeting at 6:30 that I really shouldn’t miss.

    Blah!

    If it hadn’t been the second day of Daylight Savings yesterday, I might have been able to actually get some good rest. And then I might have felt a bit more calm about this procedure and the Valium and the rest of the day.

    Maybe tonight I’ll sleep like a rock.

    Here’s hoping!