My day was going phenomenal! I had just finished lecturing my 3rd period honors students (13 girls, 2 boys) on how they are a privileged youth and should be grateful that they are able to be informed and taught about issues that are controversial so that they may one day form their own opinions and do so with a bit of knowledge in their brains. This lecture was spawned from one of my snotty-female students saying, "Like, I don't wanna sound like, uncaring or anything, but I am just getting tired of talking about the genocide in Darfur." Um, excuse me? Well why don't you give me that left arm of yours and let me sneak attack you from behind the desk and chop it off with a machete. Either that or you have to learn how to sneak attack others and chop off random body parts too. It's a much bigger decision than the pedicure with the French finish or the Mani/Pedi combo!
So after I leapt from atop my soapbox (fitting, because I am sure if I were a public speaker I'd be using some makeshift stand to hoist myself up at this point in my career/life) I proudly walked to my brand new, five year old, eight people used, DELL computer and saw that some blue screen had swallowed all of my nice, organized files. One of my two male students answered his nerdy little call to duty and tried to resuscitate my dead pile of crap, but we were unable to wish it back to life. I have lost my lists of things (I love lists!) I have lost all my plans (I also love plans!).
I feel that these small trials I am being tested with are signs that I have wronged someone or broken some universal rule and now I must pay in head pain, heart burn, and tummy knots, but I can't figure out what I have done. I have recently put down a nasty habit which makes my stress much harder to deal with, but soon will be replacing that nasty habit with a little Hot Latin! Sounds steamy, right? I am gonna learn to salsa dance and maybe other dancing...not sure exactly, but totally pumped about it. Trying to find new projects to counter the stress of teaching is a super fun task!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Two Down
I am pretty much official now, well, minus the name tag (which should be here by next week).
My day begins early and end late. Too late. Traffic late. There is no way I could even imagine leaving though, not before at least 1/3 of my work is done. It is hard.
Day one I told my kids my one rule: Respect.
Day two I only had to remind one period of my one rule. Actually, I had the kid who was there yesterday tell the kid who was there today (talking while I was talking...rude!) to tell him that there was only one rule: Respect, and that talking while I was talking was disrespectful.
I like newspaper/journalism, but was reminded today that the minds of teens are immensely different than that of adults. Brittney Spears v. New Hampshire Primaries. Bologna v. News.
Hmmm, now I am trying to figure out how to make a suggestions without really making a suggestion. I did say today that, "Newspaper is for news, not for bitching!" Good ole' boss lady.
I am in a constant state of disarray, and as hard as I try to become organized there is always something missing. It is very frustrating. I even bought stand-up files and lay down files and all sorts of files. It has only been two full days and I am already exhausted.
My favorite part of the day is when my sixth period comes because I have a few Hispanic students that say, "Hey Mees!" My name is not Miss Cook, just "Mees." It is actually real cute.
I'll get it down...it might take a while though.
My day begins early and end late. Too late. Traffic late. There is no way I could even imagine leaving though, not before at least 1/3 of my work is done. It is hard.
Day one I told my kids my one rule: Respect.
Day two I only had to remind one period of my one rule. Actually, I had the kid who was there yesterday tell the kid who was there today (talking while I was talking...rude!) to tell him that there was only one rule: Respect, and that talking while I was talking was disrespectful.
I like newspaper/journalism, but was reminded today that the minds of teens are immensely different than that of adults. Brittney Spears v. New Hampshire Primaries. Bologna v. News.
Hmmm, now I am trying to figure out how to make a suggestions without really making a suggestion. I did say today that, "Newspaper is for news, not for bitching!" Good ole' boss lady.
I am in a constant state of disarray, and as hard as I try to become organized there is always something missing. It is very frustrating. I even bought stand-up files and lay down files and all sorts of files. It has only been two full days and I am already exhausted.
My favorite part of the day is when my sixth period comes because I have a few Hispanic students that say, "Hey Mees!" My name is not Miss Cook, just "Mees." It is actually real cute.
I'll get it down...it might take a while though.
Monday, December 31, 2007
arrivederci 2007!
I am trying to wrap up the last day of 2007 (good riddance!) by preparing like crazy for the first few days of 2008. I begin work on Friday and the kids come galloping in the following Monday. I am completely freaked out. Completely.
I know that I will be teaching some genre of literature and that the kids should be ready to begin research on particular authors that their teacher-formerly known as super slack- should have already set up with each of them. Probably hasn't. I will have to. I am trying to read all of the short stories in my binder that I may, possibly, any chance in hell, teach to them so that I am one step ahead. I feel that is how I will shuffle through these first few months...one step ahead of every kid.
As far as the newspaper class goes, I had a brief tutorial with an old friend on InDesign and Photoshop. Um, so, we'll see.
I have definitely been that annoying first year teacher who is coming in mid-year and emailing all of my future colleagues with questions and planning ideas (which we decided we would do before the break) and have only heard from my darling, across the hall, neighbor who I love. She is in her second year and remembers the fear that floods the hearts of new teachers. She is also, um, 23, just like me. Well, I will be 23 on Wednesday. THEN all of the ridiculous holiday parties can stop and I can get back to watching TVD's and reading books all by my lonesome.
I think that 2008 will be good because I want it to be. I am going to start getting my travel on which is what makes my heart flutter the most. First trip is to NY in January (bad timing, I know...irresponsible, maybe) and I am excited to fly on an airplane all alone for the first time in my whole, tiny little life. Teeny little steps to get me started on a grand adventure! I will not rely on luck or fate or any of those other invisibles that I don't believe in. No collard greens and black eyed peas will lead me to happiness this year; I will. All by myself and all growed up.
I know that I will be teaching some genre of literature and that the kids should be ready to begin research on particular authors that their teacher-formerly known as super slack- should have already set up with each of them. Probably hasn't. I will have to. I am trying to read all of the short stories in my binder that I may, possibly, any chance in hell, teach to them so that I am one step ahead. I feel that is how I will shuffle through these first few months...one step ahead of every kid.
As far as the newspaper class goes, I had a brief tutorial with an old friend on InDesign and Photoshop. Um, so, we'll see.
I have definitely been that annoying first year teacher who is coming in mid-year and emailing all of my future colleagues with questions and planning ideas (which we decided we would do before the break) and have only heard from my darling, across the hall, neighbor who I love. She is in her second year and remembers the fear that floods the hearts of new teachers. She is also, um, 23, just like me. Well, I will be 23 on Wednesday. THEN all of the ridiculous holiday parties can stop and I can get back to watching TVD's and reading books all by my lonesome.
I think that 2008 will be good because I want it to be. I am going to start getting my travel on which is what makes my heart flutter the most. First trip is to NY in January (bad timing, I know...irresponsible, maybe) and I am excited to fly on an airplane all alone for the first time in my whole, tiny little life. Teeny little steps to get me started on a grand adventure! I will not rely on luck or fate or any of those other invisibles that I don't believe in. No collard greens and black eyed peas will lead me to happiness this year; I will. All by myself and all growed up.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Merry Christmas $1.84
This one was inspired by a cryptic history.
--------------------------------------------------------
If only my mailbox could muster the courage to form the words you must’ve meant.
As if a little glitter is enough to patch up a hole in the wall that begs the bitter wind enter safely.
Or a check hidden in a fold could buy back skinned knees, honor roll certificates, pre-feminist playground games, post-pubescent heart troubles, the first rally, the first and second graduations?
All things spectacular, mediocre - a fall from Grace,
a journey to enlightenment - have rushed past without your knowing.
Hallmark certainly doesn’t erase snotty noses, smoking barrels, swallowed fearlumps, or sheets hiding tiny, tear-stained faces from a troubled memory.
The days of sugar and spice and everything nice are long gone and the evenings completed by mothball scented animal crackers have been tucked into the depths of forgetfulness.
The only thing worse than a Driftwood Dad is the older generation of bandits that acted as his accomplices.
And if you knew me at all you would know that I hate pink and don’t believe in angels.
--------------------------------------------------------
If only my mailbox could muster the courage to form the words you must’ve meant.
As if a little glitter is enough to patch up a hole in the wall that begs the bitter wind enter safely.
Or a check hidden in a fold could buy back skinned knees, honor roll certificates, pre-feminist playground games, post-pubescent heart troubles, the first rally, the first and second graduations?
All things spectacular, mediocre - a fall from Grace,
a journey to enlightenment - have rushed past without your knowing.
Hallmark certainly doesn’t erase snotty noses, smoking barrels, swallowed fearlumps, or sheets hiding tiny, tear-stained faces from a troubled memory.
The days of sugar and spice and everything nice are long gone and the evenings completed by mothball scented animal crackers have been tucked into the depths of forgetfulness.
The only thing worse than a Driftwood Dad is the older generation of bandits that acted as his accomplices.
And if you knew me at all you would know that I hate pink and don’t believe in angels.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The end of an era
As I stumbled across the stage to receive proof that I am an educated lady today I didn't feel that overwhelming, stomach in your throat excitement that a college graduate, teary-eyed, mouth-watering with a sense of accomplishment should feel. I felt more of a nostalgia for the times I had in college, and the books I studied, the authors I became acquainted with, and the new methods for reasoning that I learned. I felt a genuine nostalgia for learning.
I worry that I will not write as much now that I have no cue card telling me what to focus my ideas around. I fear that I will become lazy in my life as a career girl, going and coming every day, just as the thousands around me do. Maybe because I have this fear I won't allow it to happen. It has only happened once before and rode into my life on the shoulders of contentment. A very close scholar friend of mine once told me of this quote friend he likes that states "the future belongs to the discontented." I never want to feel that sense of paralyzing contentment again. What a terrible sensation; that one's life has been lived.
Last night a cookie told me that the best times of my life have yet to be lived. I only hope that the God of the Cookies meant for me to retrieve that fortune. I only hope that is true.
New Plans include learning Spanish to help my chances of getting into a better grad school. Begin studying for the GRE as soon as possible so when I take it I will kick it's smarty-pants testing ass, and get into a great grad school.
It was strange to see my college friends and favorite professors for the last time. Very strange.
I move into my room tomorrow...not that I have much to move in. If you would like to send me a token of you to put in my classroom for decor (a porcelain elephant, your lucky stone, a picture of a rhinoceros eating spaghetti that you love, etc.) let me know and I will gladly put it on my desk and think of you every time I see it.
I worry that I will not write as much now that I have no cue card telling me what to focus my ideas around. I fear that I will become lazy in my life as a career girl, going and coming every day, just as the thousands around me do. Maybe because I have this fear I won't allow it to happen. It has only happened once before and rode into my life on the shoulders of contentment. A very close scholar friend of mine once told me of this quote friend he likes that states "the future belongs to the discontented." I never want to feel that sense of paralyzing contentment again. What a terrible sensation; that one's life has been lived.
Last night a cookie told me that the best times of my life have yet to be lived. I only hope that the God of the Cookies meant for me to retrieve that fortune. I only hope that is true.
New Plans include learning Spanish to help my chances of getting into a better grad school. Begin studying for the GRE as soon as possible so when I take it I will kick it's smarty-pants testing ass, and get into a great grad school.
It was strange to see my college friends and favorite professors for the last time. Very strange.
I move into my room tomorrow...not that I have much to move in. If you would like to send me a token of you to put in my classroom for decor (a porcelain elephant, your lucky stone, a picture of a rhinoceros eating spaghetti that you love, etc.) let me know and I will gladly put it on my desk and think of you every time I see it.
Monday, December 10, 2007
I wanna do right, but not right now
I was laying flat-backed in the park yesterday making shapes out of the clouds instead of planning. After I spotted an ogre and a little squirrel crouching on a paper airplane, I began reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being, instead of planning. This book was recommended to me by at least three of my closest friends and they all suggested that I "read it now, it'll be good for you." Conclusion: my friends think I am a crazy woman right now.
Since my job offer last week I've been thinking too much about what career life entails. Here I am, a 22 year-old kid signing up for life insurance when I barely have any life to insure! I have to choose a health plan, and think about a 401k or a 503b or something like that! It's nuts really, this transition to adulthood. Actually, I take that back, the work "transition" suggests a progression (digression) or a movement through stages..this is not. It is as if Adulthood and his pals car insurance, doctor bills, rent, phone bills, medical bills, and all the other Bills that they know just moved in unannounced to my tiny studio apartment. There are so many things you are supposed to know as an adult, like which boxes to check on the confusing tax forms, who to call when your car breaks down, how to politely deny the Jehovah Witnesses that show up at your door (as a kid you can just cut out the lights and lay on the floor until they leave), or what a flexible spending plan is (?). When do you learn these things? Is there a handbook?
Mostly though, I have been considering this notion of planning to achieve our goals. We plan, the plan is set, we reach the goal, then we are done.
It seems I have achieved this big goal and now I have to create a new list. That is what I will be replacing planning with today.
Still just sketching out ideas on the design for my life.
Since my job offer last week I've been thinking too much about what career life entails. Here I am, a 22 year-old kid signing up for life insurance when I barely have any life to insure! I have to choose a health plan, and think about a 401k or a 503b or something like that! It's nuts really, this transition to adulthood. Actually, I take that back, the work "transition" suggests a progression (digression) or a movement through stages..this is not. It is as if Adulthood and his pals car insurance, doctor bills, rent, phone bills, medical bills, and all the other Bills that they know just moved in unannounced to my tiny studio apartment. There are so many things you are supposed to know as an adult, like which boxes to check on the confusing tax forms, who to call when your car breaks down, how to politely deny the Jehovah Witnesses that show up at your door (as a kid you can just cut out the lights and lay on the floor until they leave), or what a flexible spending plan is (?). When do you learn these things? Is there a handbook?
Mostly though, I have been considering this notion of planning to achieve our goals. We plan, the plan is set, we reach the goal, then we are done.
It seems I have achieved this big goal and now I have to create a new list. That is what I will be replacing planning with today.
Still just sketching out ideas on the design for my life.
Friday, November 30, 2007
The Payoff
I am gonna be able to pay rent in January 2008 and my Christmas break is going to be a demon hell-ride.
Sshhh.
Now all I have to do is force myself to finish up this end of school madness.
Oh, oh, and Chicago is my new favorite city, Kentucky has beautiful colors, and Memphis has secrets in every single crack of every single brick in every aging house on her streets.
Sshhh.
Now all I have to do is force myself to finish up this end of school madness.
Oh, oh, and Chicago is my new favorite city, Kentucky has beautiful colors, and Memphis has secrets in every single crack of every single brick in every aging house on her streets.
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