There is something surreal about a day that begins with a woman claiming to be an empath and knows everything about me, moves into a subpoena, and ends with reading Ugly Pie to giggling first graders. I must have been absent when they taught us how to deal with these kinds of days.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Tragedy and Comedy
There is a fine line between tragedy and comedy in an elementary school. The day began with high hopes for Grandparents and Great Books Day. The children waited anxiously for the grandparents to arrive. Sadly, one grandpa didn't make it. On his way in to the school, he had a heart attack and died on the playground. There are no words for a moment this big, especially for children so small.
In the midst of this tragedy, another boy managed to bring some comedy. He came in to the office with a bloody tongue. He was walking and a pole jumped out at him while his tongue was sticking out. I bit my tongue and managed not to laugh. Instead I sympathetically told him I knew what that was like. We all have our tragedies.
In the midst of this tragedy, another boy managed to bring some comedy. He came in to the office with a bloody tongue. He was walking and a pole jumped out at him while his tongue was sticking out. I bit my tongue and managed not to laugh. Instead I sympathetically told him I knew what that was like. We all have our tragedies.
Love is Like That
After 22 years, I walked away from the classroom. I never had plans to move into administration until my fifth student committed suicide. It was no longer enough to love the kids in my classroom. I knew I needed to start changing the ways schools work.
It was the hardest decision of my life, and the kids made it even harder. The district I work for only takes applications twice a year, and people have waited years to be chosen. I applied in October just to get my name in the pool, happily content to keep teaching. Two days later I had an interview and two weeks later I had a job. Had I known I would be leaving in the middle of the year, I would have waited. My 7th graders cried - even the boys. Some of the girls cried for twenty minutes in the bathroom. My 8th graders yelled at me. "How could you do this to us?" "Don't you care about us?" "Don't you like us anymore?" Ouch. If they only knew how my heart was breaking at leaving them.
It's been four weeks and a new semester has just begun for them and for me. The learning curve is way beyond uphill. It is loop-the-loop at 150 miles-per-hour. I am unprepared for what I am doing and lost is an understatement, but love is always like that, isn't it?
It was the hardest decision of my life, and the kids made it even harder. The district I work for only takes applications twice a year, and people have waited years to be chosen. I applied in October just to get my name in the pool, happily content to keep teaching. Two days later I had an interview and two weeks later I had a job. Had I known I would be leaving in the middle of the year, I would have waited. My 7th graders cried - even the boys. Some of the girls cried for twenty minutes in the bathroom. My 8th graders yelled at me. "How could you do this to us?" "Don't you care about us?" "Don't you like us anymore?" Ouch. If they only knew how my heart was breaking at leaving them.
It's been four weeks and a new semester has just begun for them and for me. The learning curve is way beyond uphill. It is loop-the-loop at 150 miles-per-hour. I am unprepared for what I am doing and lost is an understatement, but love is always like that, isn't it?
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