Dear Neighbors:
It is now July 25 and nearly the end of my "summer". I go back to work on Wednesday in order to prepare for the upcoming school year, which begins next Monday. Already! So soon! Some of my co-workers are already there. As for me, I received another injection in my foot today, so I'll be staying off of it until I absolutely have to get up.
Even though I'm looking forward to returning to work and honing my teaching skills, I always have a back-to-work nightmare. Last night's was especially crazy and chaotic.
For some reason, school was to start at 8:30...in the evening. I was back in the house where I grew up, gathering chairs from the back patio and bringing them into the house because the chairs at school were uncomfortable. My dad, who died in 1989, was helping me. Then I was at work, having missed the prep days and finding myself woefully unprepared for the first day, only to find out that the elementary campus had been moved into a different building. My classroom was a symphony of chaos, with books and other materials stacked around the room and the desks in the middle. High school students wandered in and out of the room, chatting with my students and disrupting my "Welcome to the fifth grade" introduction. Behind me, another teacher had set up his music class and they were LOUD. I asked him to keep it down because I was trying to teach, but he insisted that it was his classroom, too, and we all had to share the space.
Then one of my co-workers informed me that the two students who were my biggest headache last year had been retained in the fifth grade and would both be in my class. I was shocked, to say the least, but figured that the new, bright student who was helping me pass out books would make up for it. Then, wouldn'tcha know it -- one of my students from last year arrived to tell me that this student was being promoted to the sixth grade. With that, he was whisked away. One of the retained students put her head on her desk and whined about not wanting to do any work (much like last year).
The kids started leaving the classroom on their own, and I realized it was time for recess. One of my co-workers asked why I even bothered going in the room; she had set up class outside and was quite happy about it. Another teacher didn't show up and had a substitute who kept asking me what she should be doing. Class began again and there were more and more textbooks and workbooks to pass out and I had no idea who should be getting what. The principal (who left at the end of the last school year) walked through the room and saw nothing wrong with the situation. I explained that there was no way I could teach in that room, but he told me that we all had to make the best of the situation. Then he walked away.
During lunch, we had a meeting (and no lunch). Teachers were complaining left and right about the new arrangements. My co-worker Donna stood up and gave the administrators a list of all the things we needed in our classrooms. Strangely enough, it was the exact list we talked about the other day (more of a wish list rather than necessities). One fairly new "I Heart Brown-Nosing" teacher went on and on about how we should all be happy we have jobs and aren't we lucky? The teacher in front of me turned around, rolled his eyes, and muttered something with many expletives. Then it was my turn to speak, but lunch was over.
I returned to my classroom and tried to teach, but the sound of a dog barking drowned out my voice. I woke up, of course, to the sound of barking dogs in the apartments behind mine. I didn't go back to sleep -- I was afraid of returning to the nightmare.
I love teaching. I don't feel unprepared. I've met many of the new 5th graders and can't wait to teach them. Still, I have the anxiety dreams at the end of each break. Why can't I have a good sex-on-the-beach dream for a change? It would be just as realistic as teaching in the same classroom as a music class!
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| Meet Raul. |
On another topic, my Australian friend Raul has started a new blog (and it's about time!). He has a wonderful, grammatically-correct, uber-literary style, and he's going to be quite an influence on politics and law when he finishes school -- I just know it.
Give it a read:
In Need Of A Nap,
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