A Tale of Two Good Mornings

At a school with a staff of nearly 50 I'll be honest -- I do not know everyone. I remember as a student in high school thinking that all teachers knew each other and were best friends. Perish the thought that Mrs. Cheney had no idea who Mr. Player is! Mr. Lim definitely does not know any of the adult denizens of the third floor (let alone the students).

Which brings me to the topic of this somewhat whistfully nostalgic post. In the mornings there are two types of "Good mornings" -- one proclaimed with an exclamation and a smile and one uttered with a period and a whiff of obligation. Of course it would be rude and awkward to slink by staff members (guilty as charged) but it's an interesting dichotomy speaking good morning to people that really have no idea who you are or what you are doing in an academic setting. I have difficulty grappling with the notion that I'm an adult (am I really?), and I feel like someone is going to figure that out. I'm going to turn the corner and someone's going to wise up and say to me, "Wait a minute, you're not supposed to be here!" and chase me out of the building.

Alas that day has not come. I've come to realize that a 24 year old moderately experienced teacher pales in comparison to some of the raucous cacophony in some of the classrooms.

Here's to hoping no one puts me as a priority.

Erratic Musings of a Semi-1st Grade Teacher

It seems like ages ago that I was lamenting over the lack of a stable position. I whistfully toyed with the idea that, somehow, things would work out and I would be in a school. Secretly, though, I was more scared than I had been a year ago when I was unplaced and a newly minted teacher. Back then, I had inexperience as my crutch.

Now, I have a resume of promises that I hope I can keep.

I admit, everyday I'm thankful. I'm thankful to be placed, thankful for where I am, thankful for all of the experiences and tribulations that have led me to the point that I am. It's a bitter pill to swallow as the medicine is going down, but like all prescriptions, they're doled out in order to produce a positive outcome.

I feel as though I'm in a position now, in a true 1st grade, where my skills will be put to the ultimate test. I've been handed a task to elevate students to the level of their peers and I pray I have the faculties to do them justice.

Another year...

I begin this post by saying that this is probably the coldest birthday I've ever had. Gone are the days of dripping sweat while blowing out candles -- hello 60 degree weather.

As the minutes tick past midnight and my birthday becomes a fleeting memory, I think it's easy for one to become somewhat pensive about the year gone by. At this very moment, lying in bed, I think it's quite interesting that I have difficulty pinning down specific horrible memories but instead am flooded with the warm thoughts and well-wishes of my closest friends and family. I think about all of those that consider me their friend and I, in turn, consider them the same. I am quite fortunate to have such a wonderful group of people that I can count on through all of the trials and tribulations that life sometimes has to offer.

As the clock continues to tick forward, my thoughts wander to birthdays' past and the hopes and fears that accompanied each mark forward.

This year, as much as any other, is full of anxiety, fear, wonder and hope -- and who knows what will befall these 365 days before me.

Summer finale!

And what a summer it was!

After watching Julie & Julia I had lofty goals of being one of those blogs that people talk about -- but unfortunately I don't have quite the same gimmick of Julie Powell. It seems that people mostly write blogs about things they know about -- their lives, and mine is no different.

So let's play catch up. What has happened since those days of late spring filled with tears and pain? Well, I've certainly lived the past three months with reckless abandon -- traveling the country and trying desperately to escape the life that I had led until this moment.

It seems as though all good things must come to an end, but not as one might expect.

At the end of the past school year, my position at my old school was not renewed. After spending 9 months cultivating a relationship with my school, I was not to return in the fall. A mixed blessing, to be sure, and one rife with a variety of emotions. I was thrust into a job market that is rapidly dwindling and my options sorely lacking.

Here we stand, 2 weeks and 3 days from the start of the school year and I still do not have a position. I'm filled with an incalculable amount of anxiety and fear coupled with a shred of hope -- hope that I can make this year better for myself and the students I will teach.

I think in writing this blog, I might not be able to cook my way through Julia Child's tome of recipes, but I've learned so much writing my thoughts here. I've learned that I'm truly a hopeful person -- and one day I may cook my way through some of those classic recipes.

Who'd Have Thought

A little bird from So Great. prompted me to look back on posts' past and reflect on where I came from and where I've been. I remember embarking on this journey so many months ago and really panicking at the precipice I stood upon. For the first time in my life I really didn't know what I was supposed to do and how I was supposed to accomplish it.

I remember thinking, in my protective bubble, that life rarely presents a truly insurmountable challenge. I've realized that people face challenges in their daily life that we cannot conceive of. An entire world has unveiled itself to me, one that I knew existed yet persisted in shrugging off.

I remember a year ago the questions that consumed my waking thoughts and here, now, I have answers to questions I never considered.

Though I have a certain amount of independence I still feel as though I'm a child, the student, a tyro at life.

Considering the gauntlet that I have been through I, still, look forward to the future. I look forward to the promise of easier times, less manic times, different times. I think one thing I've learned is the futility of fighting -- life's too short.



Oh -- and it's fucking summer. Bring it on. Bring -- it-- on.

Partly Sunny

The weather is changing and the difference is palpable. Everyday I dreaded the coming storm -- Hurricane Randall, Tropical Depression Faith, and the Tsunami that was Room 103. There seemed to be an ominous cloud that hung over the day but now, the air is clear.

I sit here and I reflect about the days gone by. The shitstorm that was teaching 1st grade. It seemed strange to walk to halls knowing the year was over. I don't think there has been a time in my life that I have ever cried more or experience such anxiety.

I'll keep this post short -- there is probably more to come. I really don't know how to articulate my thoughts and feelings at this point -- I'm just glad its nearly over.

Bring on the sun.

So Yesterday

I remember yesterday thinking to myself, "Today is a pretty good day." Looking back at my notes, however, there were fights, choas and general malaise rampant throught the day. Still, though, I considered it good. Today, things were fine. Fine in the sense that I'm not pondering defenestration and all of my limbs are intact.

After today, there are 14 days left of this school year. It's hard to conceive of, really. I feel as if I've aged 30 years within the past month and a half. I'm cranky, tired, and crave the early bird special at Golden Corral -- the latter of which has been bubbling under the surface since mid-October.

But alas, I yearn for sleep that I cannot receive. My body is in a constant state of tension and cannot relax. Thus is the life of a teacher.

I'm trying trying trying to celebrate my successes and, really, there are many. So many small moments of success seem buried under a monumental amount of shit. 14 days -- 14 days and counting.