September 16, 2009
so good…
It’s been a fairly smooth opening to the school year. Watch, tomorrow will be a horrible meltdown now that I’ve put that out in the universe.
I have a lot of feisty munchkins, but so far, no major meltdowns. Much to my relief, I actually like my homeroom quite a lot. There are way more boys than girls, which changes the atmosphere considerably. The boys are super “little boy”-ish this year – a welcome change from the “tough guy” crap of years past. They are also bright and quick and actually have some skills. Most of them seem to already realize that Texas is not a continent, and I’ll just call that a small miracle.
There’s a new favorite already… He’s another tiny little boy, (remember Twitch? Goofball? Speedy G?) and he’s super naughty. The Almighty Administration actually warned me about him and I believe they used the words “spawned from the devil”. I’ve always been drawn to the bad boys, and this one is a squirrelly, slippery, sneaky little weasel who has already learned to charm people but has tantrums when it doesn’t work. He is also a master-distracter in training. In the middle of a writing mini-lesson he pipes up with “Miss! What do you know about the Bermuda Triangle?” as if he expects me to drop my overhead marker and exclaim, “My! What an amazing question! I know quite a bit about the Bermuda Triangle, let me tell you all about it!” thus rescuing him from having to actually write something. Much to his dismay I refused to skip a beat, and he did indeed produce some writing.
These little attempts at distraction happen 15-20 times in a 90 minute class, and I’m sure he’s wondering when he’s going to wear me down. The thing is, he’s a button pusher, and he knows it, but so do I. He is trying to find my breaking point and I am simply going to remain as calm as possible until HE breaks. Ok, that and I am going to just be stranger than he is. That’s the plan anyways in my current zen-like state. That, and I am going to love the hell out of him (in totally appropriate ways obviously) because he seems to have no actual parents. If he does, nobody can find them. If I have melted down completely by mid-October I’m going to need somebody to please remind me to re-read this post and stay strong. For now though, the strategy is working quite well. He tried a different mode of attack today and told me I was an illegal alien and that I should be sent to prison. I’m sure he was expecting a lecture of some sort about rudeness and accusation and not being judgemental but instead, again much to his dismay, I simply winked, held out my wrists and told him he was welcome to make a citizens arrest. He was totally confused.
When he’s not attempting to be a pest, he’s actually really darling. He came leaping into the room the other day after lunch, bounced right up to me, stretched out his armed and crowed “Honey! I’m hooooome!”. Like I said, he’s my new favorite. It gets better. I truly wish I could tell you his real name because it’s HYSTERICAL. It’s an adjective. A fantastically amusing adjective because it is the antithesis of his personality. From here on out I am going to call him…Glorious.
September 7, 2009
That is something I very likely will NOT be tomorrow when I attempt to rise and shine at 6am for the first time in more than 2 months. I caved and went in one day last week to get my furniture into position, but only because I can’t stay late and deal with it tomorrow.
I do have some fresh new things happening this year though, one of which is a new addition to my teaching plans. I am now officially instructing a graduate class at my alma mater, which I’m both excited about, and terrified of. More on that later if I survive the first week.
Let the games begin!
June 26, 2009
I was ready to be done yesterday.
It’s been an odd year, the biggest highs and lows of my entire life:
I got engaged.
One of my closest friends, who was to be a bridesmaid in my wedding, was murdered. Her funeral was the day that was planned to be my wedding shower that she was hosting with my mom.
One of my dear friends found out her mother has a brain tumor.
My mother is losing her house.
I will be married to the most amazing man in less than a month.
My grandfather loved Kahlil Gibran and I grew up reading pieces of The Prophet. My favorite chapter has always been “On Joy and Sorrow”. This year has been the absolute embodiment of those words, so that is what I’ll leave you with.
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater thar sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
May 6, 2009
I may have mentioned a few times, maybe more, that the women’s staff restroom is more than 2 city blocks away from my classroom. Every once in a while, when the students are at lunch (they are not allowed in the upstairs restrooms at lunch and the bathrooms are locked during this time) I pop into the student girl’s restroom if I need to. Well, it was one of those times, so I unlocked the door, walked in, and a MAN’S VOICE called out, “Wait! Occupied!”
For real?
I was in there long enough to see the shoes, and the pants around the ankles. That’s right bonehead, I know it was you, a GROWN MAN taking a shit in the student girls bathroom. I should point out that the student boys bathroom is right next door, and the MEN’s bathroom is next to that. This teacher had to walk past the men’s room to get to the girls room!!!
Gross, and I know who you are.
April 23, 2009
So, I finally declare the end and all I can think about is funny things to post?
Today: I am reading the same book as one of my more adorable students. He’s “emo”, one of the only ones in the class. He’s got long, choppy hair that looks like it’s right out of a Naruto novel and he’s really short so he often ends up peering up at me through his choppy bangs. He looks at me and asks “What page are you up to today?” I tell him. ”Ah! I’m 3 paragraphs ahead of you!” He’s so excited, it’s hard not to be amused.
Later today: Same kid as above. We are writing historical journals, they made intricate characters and have to respond to historical events, with letters or journal entries, as that character. I ask him how he’s doing and he responds, ‘My character has been on a trip and so I’m writing a letter to my wife to tell her I miss her and tell her all about the Boston Massacre!” So cute. You might have to be there, but seriously, this shit is getting me through the day to day…
April 3, 2009
I never post here anymore, and I’m sure most people don’t even check it anymore. I’ve been crazy busy with all the things happening, some great, some stressful etc. Today I lost a life-long friend under tragic circumstances, and I do not think I’ll be writing anything else for quite some time, educational or otherwise. I wish you all the best, and perhaps I’ll try this again next year.
March 2, 2009
!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m going back to bed!!!!!!!!!
HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!
