Why a dream of roses?
Well, the phrase has two meanings for me – each significant in their own way.
1) For the college football team I’ve grown up loving and rooting for, the Rose Bowl has been the ultimate prize; Pasedena, the ultimate destination. Half a century of waiting has not changed that. Generations of Golden Bears have passed through the Berkeley campus, all waiting for the same thing I now am, dreaming the same dream that I now do.
With each passing year, the wait grows longer, fueled by the failures of the previous season.
And still I dream…despite enduring the kind of suffering that would’ve turned smarter men away from college football entirely.
Sports is not a hobby for the rational.
2) In a strange way, this is also an appropriate description of how I see my role as a teacher [at least, at this point in my life…who knows how that might change as the years go by. Hence this blog].
As a gardener, of sorts. Planting thoughts and ideas. Giving care. Nurturing students.
And if I’m lucky enough…getting to watching them bloom, right in front of me.
Hence, a dream of roses.