Writing this post this morning, I’m procrastinating from entering my interim grades and getting ready for school. My spelling and retelling of the past month’s events in my life are a necessary and bewitching challenge.
Grateful for being a “highly intelligent woman,” I still am crippled by the stress, grief and exhaustion of being a “first year” teacher in an urban school district, the sole competent member of my family’s bloodline after the sudden death of my only sister, matriarch of an above average sized family (both in size and number) and an entrepreneur trying to rekindle the flames a business that was put on the back burner due to disabling conditions that took away my spark for a few years.
Shall I just take the easy path – notes, rhetoric, tests, lather, rinse, repeat? To me that is a “wonderlandering” downward slide down the wicked path of mediocrity
Or do I Sinatra it – do it my way? Taking myself, yet again, down the challenging, relevant, albeit difficult and thorn filled path; casting a spell of relevance to corrupt the minds of youth?
And in so doing, in taking them away from the fiery caldron of acceptance of norms created to control, and thereby charting a course towards a brave new world of courage, acceptance of difference and a remonstrance of the common, do I self immolate?
Either way, I’ll be sure to run a spell check…
As the semester comes to a close and along with it, my first full school year back in the classroom; I’m still as excited to be doing this today as I was in September.
I’ve had bumps along the way, tears were shed, self-doubt crept in, mistakes were made (again and again), but the awesome questions that keep coming, the laughter at my corny jokes, and the smiling (and sometimes fearful) faces of those that sit before me thirsting for knowledge inspire me even on my darkest days.
My own children ask me, “Mom, why do you read so much?”
1) I enjoy reading.
2) I enjoy learning.
3) I would be a charlatan if I stood up in front of my students every day and expected them to take risks and learn if I wasn’t willing to do the same.
Our library is being cleaned out for renovations and an entire set of history books were up for the taking. I now have 6 boxes of books in the back of the land yacht (Psst don’t tell Papasaurus yet!) and as I excitedly looked through the them, I let out a squeal of delight about books on obscure Civil War battles that made the librarian chuckle. He said, “You are proof that one man’s trash is another’s treasure. I’m glad someone will put them to good use.”
Albert Eistein is credited with a quote, “Once we stop learning, we start dying.”
I have a long life ahead…
As I sit here, in my warm home with snow gently falling outside, a eerie sense of calm surrounds me.
Yet, I have no tree, I am not even close to being done with my shopping and I have two more days of work this week.
Then a dear old warrior friend posted this: 18 Strings of Trouble – “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” and I hearken back to the days when I felt like my life was a war zone. Fear, uncertainty and pain, was all I knew.
Reminded of that yesterday with a student in crisis (The similarities to my own personal situation at that age were astounding!), I now realize why I have been placed where I am.
The beauty and wisdom of knowing and recognizing it brings me great comfort and joy.
So enjoy the snow, take you time, crank up the music and ENJOY. Take care of you!
via Daily Prompt: Calm
No, I’m not talking about my wedding vows, I am talking about writing and creating the perfect lessons for my substitute teacher to continue the learning process with my vast array of students when I am not there.
The health and well-being of my students is always on my mind. Why is X suspended again? Why is L not going to class on time this week after I finally talked with him and thought he was on track? Why is C such a wizard and what can I do to challenge him so he is not bored? Is M still worried about her grades so much she doesn’t sleep at night?
See I believe that teaching is my calling. I have told my students that I take the whole “In Loco Parentis” part seriously. I am their parents while they are in school, but I’m not really am I?
I can’t ground them for being a jerk and skipping class, buy them ice cream on a day they are sad or give them a hug when their spirits are weary can I?
I try when I am there to be a shoulder to cry on, a sounding board for their concerns and a listening ear, even when they are screaming. I teach business, but in my job as CEO of my classes, I blur the lines between management and employees.
All I can do is make sure my substitute understands that they are MY kids and provide lessons to help to carry on my instruction.
In sickness and in health…