And the depths get lower

...and I thought it couldn't get worse.

I remember sitting in the library, crying over how terribly inconsequential I felt. Students would come and go, pay little to no attention to me, and I felt like I was serving no purpose.

So here I am in first grade -- the teacher. Have things gotten better? Absolutely not. It's so strange that I really thought things could not get any worse than they were -- and here we are, worse.

The most comment I get is, "But they're only first graders!" True, these students are physically about seven or eight years old, but they've been molded and disfigured by some force within their environment. They do not know social norms, mores, or basic human principles. Fighting, screaming, kicking and yelling are accepted.

And the fighting! I really do not know what to do about all the fighting. Literally (and I know a lot of people misuse the word literally, but in all honesty) I cannot get out four words without being interrupted by fighting or some sort of emotional outburst. I'm at a complete loss as to what to do.

I know that I cannot be yet another authority figure to abandon these kids, but they seriously do not know the damage they do. I can only hope that time will erode these rebellious spirits and leave me with a shred of my sanity.

Winter Passing

Today was the first day that winter truly felt over. Sure the weather has been steadily climbing, but the precipitation that fell all day today was, thankfully, not white and fluffy.

I remember about a year ago when this whole teaching thing began to become a reality, most people scoffed at a Texas boy like me surviving through a midwestern winter. To a degree, yes, it was cold. Yes the snow was a huge setback. Yes the world was a frozen tundra. But I made it. Despite the crippling temperatures there were more pressing issues at hand.

I feel spring is an appropriate time for me to be transitioning to 1st grade -- the metaphors are almost too obvious. That being said nervous is probably too reductive a word to explain what I'm feeling at this point.

I'm also thinking about all the challenges I've faced thusfar, many of which I've chronicled on this blog. I wonder what has brought me this far. I'd like to think that it's courage, bravery, or some other descriptor found on Hallmark card -- or, and this has been nagging me, is it fear. I don't think of myself as an especially courageous or brave person.

Fear aside, I look at the 1st grade class where I will be spending the last 3 months of this school year and I'm filled with something else. As cheesy as it sounds, especially in this post-Obama clime, I'm filled with hope. Hope that I really can make a difference.

Sp-R-ing

Springtime typically signifies resurgence, renewal, life beginning. Certianly there has been change. After many, many months spent in the library as a glorified babysitter, I've finally gotten word that I'm moving to First grade. Just like a primary student, I'm filled with hope, fear, and anxiety. Though I know mostly what to expect, I'm not expecting to know everything. Students that are currently difficult will most likely continue to be as such. I know that this was probably the position that I was meant to be in, a little voice continues to question my ability.

It's also the week of standarized testing here in Illinois and I've discovered that many students do not know how to bubble in testing sheets -- I've also discovered that it's a difficult thing to teach in the ten seconds before a test is slated to begin.

I feel like my life is still coasting down a hill of ambivalence. Each day is a challenge, often frought with tears and anger, but the day seems to end at 2:45. I come every day expecting trouble and am usually met with it.

Three months.

A Slice

The setting: The normal furor of the 1st grade classroom.  Amidst flying papers and heated juvenile emotions, I frantically, desperately try to gain control.  I look around and only a handful of students bother to listen.

As I clasp my hands on my head, Dwayne trots up to me and beckons.  He looks up at me with his saucer-like basset hound eyes and in a hushed tone he whispers, "Mr. Lim, you're going to have a hard time getting Sharice and Trevell to do work today because they're boyfriend and girlfriend."

I look over and Sharice is sitting quietly with her hands folded -- a smile painted on her face that would let her get away with murder.  Trevell is doing something crazy -- probably slapping the student next to him or gyrating on the dreadfully dirty floor.

Ah first grade.  Where love was just a word printed on pink cards and all it takes to start a fight is who holds possession to the book "Sinbad the Pig".  

These kids have no idea what they're in for.

My Life Would Suck Without...

Winter Weather Advisory

Back in Texas if the streets were icy, school was closed. If "snow" was anywhere mentioned in the forecast, things shut down. If the temperature dropped below 30, it was time to stay in and drink hot chocolate.

But oh, how the midwest views things differently. I suppose I'm in the dead of winter. So far, I've spent 3 hours traveling 20 miles, had to dig my car out from under 10 inches of snow and braved -10 degree temperatures. Winter has been a brutal mistress. I will no longer complain about the 3 week Austin winters but you really haven't lived until your car has slid out of your control into the stationary vehicle in front of you.

I find it interesting that I'm that guy from Texas that is so ill-prepared for cold weather. Everyone complains about the cold and the snow, but when I do it becomes, "Oh that's right you're from Texas!".

But the snow will still fall and the temperatures will still plummet and all of this will be miserable -- for a time. The misery of winter reminds me that in a few months time the snow will thaw, the mercury will steadily rise, and the world will continue to spin.

Vacation Wrap-up

While riffling through the 20 or so pictures I took during break I wondered, what is the purpose of vacation? Ostensibly, it's to provide a much needed break from -- whatever. Work, kids, responsibility, life, who knows what. But since when did vacation become an emotionally and physically taxing journey from one geographic location to another?

Disclaimer: I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about having time off. I absolutely adore it.

My vacation began with two days of doing nothing here in Chicago. The city was in a deep freeze and due to a schedule snafu I ended up being here holed up in my house trying to barricade myself from the (literal) sub-zero temperatures.

Which brings us to the actual vacation. Wikipedia defines it as a leave of absence from regular occupation for rest or recreation. I think often times it serves as a break from typical routine. It has the somewhat catch-22 effect of making you appreciate your day-to-day life while still making you desire the life you have in your off-time. Example: I could spend my days lounging about with my friends, eating a great restaurants and living in leisure, but golly, I can't wait to get back home to Chicago!

Over the break I had the opportunity to strengthen friendships that had been somewhat dormant. I also had a unique experience that left me both exhilarated and saddened. At risk of being too vague, I will simply leave it at that. Suffice to say this leave of absence has not left me quite centered. I still feel emotionally and mentally a bit disquieted, especially as I sit here in my house, once again all but abandoned, left only with my wandering thoughts.

As my bags lay at the door, still packed, jammed with a whirlwind of memories and gifts in need of exchanging, I still look forward to that tiny slice of rest and recreation.

ho Ho HO

Happy Holidays everyone.