Part One: Done, but not *done* done.The remainder of my students went home on Tuesday afternoon. It was, by far, the strangest, most anti-climactic end of a school year yet. The boys worked on finishing their Project Citizen work. In this project, the class identifies an issue in their community, figures out who the target is and then evaluates current policy in order to propose their own policy to address the issue. Finally they identify ways in which to gain support to get their policy adopted and present all of the information via a binder, a display board and an oral presentation. It's a lot of work, a lot of chaos and some years it works better than others, but it is also a great project for the last few weeks of school and it reinforces a lot of what we studied during the year. This year, the projects weren't the best I've ever seen, but they were decent. The difference was that we worked until the very last day of school, so there was no standard, stereotypical last day of school stuff. They worked for the first half of class and presented for the second half and then they left. It was very bizarre and has led me to have no end of year joy, relief or sadness. Just sort of empty, as if there was no real closure. It's a very strange feeling, being done with my third year (well, not really *done* done - that will come with the end of 9th-11th grade finals on Friday...and then again when orientation ends on the 29th). In many ways, this year was by far the easiest. There were no tears (and only one or two close calls) and many less nights spent venting about my day. I got more of a handle on behavior management, I came the closest I've ever come to nailing down an Econ curriculum, I felt more confident about my lessons/material and I was told by several observers that I had a clear comfort and command of the classroom. When I think back to my first months of teaching, I marvel at how far I have come, even if I know there are miles to go before I am anywhere near where I would like to be. Perhaps the biggest change this year, though, is that I allowed myself to take a step back from the classroom. I took on more leadership and I spent less time at school. It was hard to not attend every event and I sometimes felt bad not spending hours on the weekend prepping lessons and activities, but the quality of my life has been greatly enhanced by that change. I still struggle with finding the balance between my personal life and my job and finding my place in the school community, but I suspect that will always be the case. I have never been certain that teaching is the career for me and there are always dozens of instances that make me think it is not (there were still days, for instance, where I thought about how nice it must be to have a job where you can reasonably expect not to be disrespected/yelled at/ignored and/or confronted on a daily basis), but, at the end of the day, no matter how awful the instance, I love working with my students and I enjoy sharing my knowledge with them. I have never had a job that did not have a purpose, did not lend some value to my life, did not make some sort of a meaningful difference. I once dated a guy who proudly proclaimed that his job was not his life, but that it was something he did to support the life he did have. I don't think my job is my life, but it does give added meaning to the life I have and I value that immensely. Part Two: The InterviewI was at the bookstore the other night and two women (who I took to be recent college grads) were discussing job interviews as they looked at a book someone has written about how to answer tough interview questions. (Seriously. That's a real book.) One woman mentioned that she hates when interviewers ask about your biggest weakness. That she never knows what to say. Over the years, I've worked out a pretty solid, professional answer (although Brian told me once that he had a coworker who wanted to answer with "Prada," which I think is fabulous), but it got me thinking. If life had an interview, what would be your greatest weakness?
I narrowed it down to two. - I do my best to avoid conflict. On the plus side, this means that I am an excellent facilitator and mediator and that I am immensely laid-back in many respects. On the other hand, I often compromise or accomodate too soon. Plus, it means that I sometimes fall back on being passive-aggressive (although I am getting so much better about that).
- I am immensely uncomfortable showing emotion and letting people do nice things for me. I put these together because I think they are related and/or come from the same place. On the plus side, this means that I am able to make decisions and lead from a pretty objective place and that I am incredibly strong and independent. On the other hand, it means that I have an incredibly hard time trusting people and that many people, even those closest to me, don't have a true understanding of how I feel (in general or about them). It also means that when people do nice things for me or do something to comfort or care for me, I often feel guilty or bad about "putting them out".
Then again, maybe my biggest weakness in life is Target. Hey, no one's perfect, right?
