I am sitting in Brian's living room, having just finished some prep work for class this week. He is out playing basketball and should be back in the next half hour or so. While we definitely still "date" (comedy show tonight, concert in a few weeks), we have also settled pretty easily into a rather domestic existence. I am continually surprised to remember that we have only been together about three months. Our relationship is one of those things that I am incredibly grateful for while still being completely blown away by the fact that it continues to be real.
While I am spending the weekend, per usual, in Bowie, Elizabeth is moving out. Her girlfriend has moved to DC and the two of them are moving into an apartment together. It sounds like the move has gone relatively well and I am hoping that this new chapter in Elizabeth's life is a great one. I'll have the apartment to myself for a week and then Chris, a friend from my UC days will be moving in. He'll stay for the summer (maybe less - he moved here quickly to take a job and wanted time to look for a place of his own) and then Sarah, another UC friend, will move in for the remainder of the lease (Sept-June). It's a big change - Elizabeth and I have been roommates for nearly three years - but I think it will work out well for everyone in the end. Positive thinking and all that.
As I type this, my friends Scott and Christina are preparing to get married in Wisconsin. I have known them since before they were a couple and, like the majority of my married friends, I cannot think of a better match for either of them. I am sad to be missing out on their festivities, but I know it will be a beautiful celebration full of laughter and joy. CONGRATULATIONS!
My friend Molly is celebrating her graduation from law school this weekend. She is an incredibly smart, funny and compassionate person who I suspect will be a welcome addition to the law community. I also missed out on that party, but I think the voice mail I got from Karen and Cole pretty much transported me there (seriously ladies, SO much giggling). CONGRATULATIONS, MOLLY!
In just a few days I am off to Wisconsin to celebrate Maggie's 30th and Beth's wedding. I am so excited to be heading home (yes, that would be my third "home" - what can I say?) and celebrating for the whole weekend. I am also bouncing in my chair at the thought of hanging out with my best friend for two whole days. Plus, I'm flying into Chicago and driving up to Wisconsin so I also get to see my folks and my sisters, all of whom are experiencing some changes of their own (Dad is weeks away from retirement, Rachel has moved home before heading to China in September, Lindsey is gearing up to move into an apartment with her best friend and Mom's dealing with all of that in one house).
I think I need to take a shower and all that good stuff. Happy Memorial Day everyone!
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Unrelated
- Yesterday a student acknowledged that I was speaking to her, but continued right on with what she was doing. When I addressed her again she yelled, "Damn! Just leave me alone!" Uhm...no, I don't think I will. Also, for anyone playing at home, moments like that (and the five minute conference that followed) make me question my career choice. Especially at the end of May.
- A month or so ago, I woke up with a stiff neck. Tuesday night it had progressed to the point that I could not turn my head without experiencing extreme pain. Last night it was better, but this morning I was almost in tears as I ducked my head to sit in my car. Good thing I was able to get in to see my doctor this afternoon - I don't think I could take much more of this.
- Having a faculty meeting from 3p-4p the Friday of Memorial Day weekend is just wrong. Wrong, I tell you.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Before anything, let me ask you this favor: the mother of the kids I babysit is having pretty extensive surgery today (to remove the cancerous part of her colon). She's young, the kids are really young (9,3,1) and the whole situation is scary and unfortunate. Please send your prayers and positive thoughts out into the universe on their behalf.
The school year is drawing to a close. The seniors transitioned off campus and into their internships on Friday, the remaining students are pushing every envelope and testing every boundary and the teachers are starting to look a little dazed. Must be nearing the end. (Sixteen days for the middle school, by the way.) With the seniors gone, I now teach from 8a-10:10am and from 2:55pm-3:45pm. Those five hours in the middle can get a little long, but mainly I've filled it with end-of-year tasks and lots of Civics prep. Plus I get tapped to sub ALL OF THE TIME, which is to be expected, but also really annoying.
The end of the year means lots of activities and things of that nature. Tonight is a cookout fundraiser, tomorrow is the spring football scrimmage, Thursday is the school musical. My first year I would have diligently attended every minute of every event, but this time around I'm probably going to skip the cookout, swing by the scrimmage and still go to the musical. There are moments when I think that this change in attendance is a bad sign, but the reality is that as much as I like my job and adore the students, I need to have my own life. Even if skipping the cookout just means I can go to the gym before going to Brian's and leaving the scrimmage early is simply so I can get some laundry done. My own life doesn't have to be exciting - just my own.
Saturday some friends of mine had a fundraiser bbq (they are starting a new nonprofit) and I was talking to another teacher from school. He has been at the school for seven, maybe eight, years and he is really good about setting limits. I think I'm getting there, but I know I have a long way to go. I want my students to be able to trust me and to have strong relationships with them, but I also want them to respect my space and my time. He and I both agreed that making that transition to a teacher with limits is hard, but necessary to avoid burnout. I feel like it's part of the process of growing up - my job is no longer my whole life (it always has been) - and that is a very strange existence for me.
In other news, my trip to LA is set. I am meeting Maggie at LAX on July 3rd for three days of vacation (yay!) and then I'm headed to San Diego on the morning of the 7th for my cousin Allison's wedding. (She and her fiance are all of 23 years old; it's a little gross.) My seminar starts on the evening of the 7th and runs through the morning of the 28th. It sounds like a lot of work, but also a lot of time to enjoy my surroundings. I mean, if I have to read lengthy constitutional foundation texts, I might as well do so on a hill overlooking LA, right? Plus, y'all know what a geek I am; I'm really excited about the readings and assignments. Brian is coming to visit the second weekend. This way, my month away is broken in half. He lived in LA for some time and has some really good friends out there so he'll visit with them for a few days while I'm in class and then we'll spend the weekend together. Good times all around, I think.
The school year is drawing to a close. The seniors transitioned off campus and into their internships on Friday, the remaining students are pushing every envelope and testing every boundary and the teachers are starting to look a little dazed. Must be nearing the end. (Sixteen days for the middle school, by the way.) With the seniors gone, I now teach from 8a-10:10am and from 2:55pm-3:45pm. Those five hours in the middle can get a little long, but mainly I've filled it with end-of-year tasks and lots of Civics prep. Plus I get tapped to sub ALL OF THE TIME, which is to be expected, but also really annoying.
The end of the year means lots of activities and things of that nature. Tonight is a cookout fundraiser, tomorrow is the spring football scrimmage, Thursday is the school musical. My first year I would have diligently attended every minute of every event, but this time around I'm probably going to skip the cookout, swing by the scrimmage and still go to the musical. There are moments when I think that this change in attendance is a bad sign, but the reality is that as much as I like my job and adore the students, I need to have my own life. Even if skipping the cookout just means I can go to the gym before going to Brian's and leaving the scrimmage early is simply so I can get some laundry done. My own life doesn't have to be exciting - just my own.
Saturday some friends of mine had a fundraiser bbq (they are starting a new nonprofit) and I was talking to another teacher from school. He has been at the school for seven, maybe eight, years and he is really good about setting limits. I think I'm getting there, but I know I have a long way to go. I want my students to be able to trust me and to have strong relationships with them, but I also want them to respect my space and my time. He and I both agreed that making that transition to a teacher with limits is hard, but necessary to avoid burnout. I feel like it's part of the process of growing up - my job is no longer my whole life (it always has been) - and that is a very strange existence for me.
In other news, my trip to LA is set. I am meeting Maggie at LAX on July 3rd for three days of vacation (yay!) and then I'm headed to San Diego on the morning of the 7th for my cousin Allison's wedding. (She and her fiance are all of 23 years old; it's a little gross.) My seminar starts on the evening of the 7th and runs through the morning of the 28th. It sounds like a lot of work, but also a lot of time to enjoy my surroundings. I mean, if I have to read lengthy constitutional foundation texts, I might as well do so on a hill overlooking LA, right? Plus, y'all know what a geek I am; I'm really excited about the readings and assignments. Brian is coming to visit the second weekend. This way, my month away is broken in half. He lived in LA for some time and has some really good friends out there so he'll visit with them for a few days while I'm in class and then we'll spend the weekend together. Good times all around, I think.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Achilles' heel
Last night, Brian and I were on the phone and he jokingly said I was a "pushover" when it comes to my students. I was not pleased, to say the least. I launched into this huge defense of myself and my actions and actually had to check myself when I heard my voice getting a little hysterical. Poor guy; he never saw it coming.
I knew he was joking, I know he thinks I am a great teacher and I still got upset. And even as I was talking with him, I knew it was because he hit a rather sore spot - my Achilles' heel, if you will. I got upset because, joking or not, he'd pointed out the biggest worry/frustration I have about myself as a teacher these days: that I am letting my kids get away with too much.
The truth is that I am tired of kids. Especially kids of the thirteen-year-old boy persuasion. Today in class, R blew up a balloon and let the air escape slowly, creating a prolonged squealing sound. I didn't even know what to say. I mean, I sent him into the hall and then I walked him through why what he did was wrong, but my heart wasn't in it. We are halfway through the 33rd week of school. Do I really have to explain to you why it is inappropriate to disrupt class in such a manner (or in any manner)? Really? Or why you can't hit each other in the face, even if you are just saying hello?
It's just getting harder and harder to fake it. And I'm struggling with the notion that I might simply be teaching my students that they can act however they want and still get what they need. The reality is that if you're rude and nasty and disrespectful, people aren't going to go out of their way to help you. And I'm willing to overlook a lot of that because we're talking about kids here, but still. Thirty-three weeks of being talked back to, cursed at/around, and essentially fighting for every scrap of learning opportunity is enough. I'm ready for a break.
But, regardless of how ready I may be, a break is still a ways off. So I have found myself letting things slide because I'm tired and sort of done and it is just easier. The problem is that I am not oblivious to this change in myself and I recognize that I am letting my students down in the process. And I sort of hate that about myself right now. So when someone calls me out on it, even in the most joking or loving manner, it speaks directly to that part of my subconscious that is most agitated by all of this and the rest of me lashes out to prevent those feelings from being validated. Human nature, of course, but still.
Those of you who teach get this, I know. You know that none of this means I won't give 110% to my students until the last day. You know that I'll continue to push them and encourage them and support them and that I'll do everything I can to help them be successful. It just means that I might be a little more frustrated at night and a little less enthusiastic in the morning. And sometimes, that's just the way it has to be. I still love my students and I still like my job, so I can't complain TOO much. Honest.
I knew he was joking, I know he thinks I am a great teacher and I still got upset. And even as I was talking with him, I knew it was because he hit a rather sore spot - my Achilles' heel, if you will. I got upset because, joking or not, he'd pointed out the biggest worry/frustration I have about myself as a teacher these days: that I am letting my kids get away with too much.
The truth is that I am tired of kids. Especially kids of the thirteen-year-old boy persuasion. Today in class, R blew up a balloon and let the air escape slowly, creating a prolonged squealing sound. I didn't even know what to say. I mean, I sent him into the hall and then I walked him through why what he did was wrong, but my heart wasn't in it. We are halfway through the 33rd week of school. Do I really have to explain to you why it is inappropriate to disrupt class in such a manner (or in any manner)? Really? Or why you can't hit each other in the face, even if you are just saying hello?
It's just getting harder and harder to fake it. And I'm struggling with the notion that I might simply be teaching my students that they can act however they want and still get what they need. The reality is that if you're rude and nasty and disrespectful, people aren't going to go out of their way to help you. And I'm willing to overlook a lot of that because we're talking about kids here, but still. Thirty-three weeks of being talked back to, cursed at/around, and essentially fighting for every scrap of learning opportunity is enough. I'm ready for a break.
But, regardless of how ready I may be, a break is still a ways off. So I have found myself letting things slide because I'm tired and sort of done and it is just easier. The problem is that I am not oblivious to this change in myself and I recognize that I am letting my students down in the process. And I sort of hate that about myself right now. So when someone calls me out on it, even in the most joking or loving manner, it speaks directly to that part of my subconscious that is most agitated by all of this and the rest of me lashes out to prevent those feelings from being validated. Human nature, of course, but still.
Those of you who teach get this, I know. You know that none of this means I won't give 110% to my students until the last day. You know that I'll continue to push them and encourage them and support them and that I'll do everything I can to help them be successful. It just means that I might be a little more frustrated at night and a little less enthusiastic in the morning. And sometimes, that's just the way it has to be. I still love my students and I still like my job, so I can't complain TOO much. Honest.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Word.
Substitute "history" with "AP Govt," "one month" with "one week" and all the history class references with "four rights movements, nine SC decisions, the civil liberties protected under the bill of rights, incorporation, and the balance of fighting terorrism v. protecting freedoms" and you'd pretty much get my life of late.
Walk with me
Yesterday I took a walk for the first time in a long while - I take the same route every time. Thought this time around, I'd bring you all along. The narrative was better yesterday while I was walking, but I didn't have time to post until now. Still, you get the idea.
We'll start on 10th and make a left onto G. As we walk down G, be careful not to trip on the skateboarding ramp set up in front of the yellow house. And don't be frightened by the ginormous dog at the green house. As far as I can tell, he's harmless. You won't be able to stop yourself from smiling as that yuppie dad walks alongside his little girl while mom pushes a baby boy in the stroller. We'll be on G for awhile, passing under countless trees and past many tableaus. The three boys, all in dark, baggy jeans and crisp white tanks, freestylin' on the corner, using the mailbox as their beat box. The elderly couple, both in their Sunday best, making their way gingerly across the cobblestone. The Jeep full of Marines, cruising by, country music blasting from the radio.
Eventually, G will dead-end at Garfield Park and we'll cut through the middle, stopping to check out the tennis matches and the horseshoe game. We'll hear nannies gossiping in foreign tongues, pushing tow-headed children on swings next to J Crew catalog families catching up around the sandbox. And, if it weren't spring and the trees weren't in bloom, we'd catch a glimpse of the Capitol dome as we walked past the older man playing fetch with the dogs while his wife reads the Post on a bench nearby (both rocking popped collars with no sense of irony).
We'll leave the park and walk down 1st and soon rowhouses will give way to apartment buildings and suddenly we'll be passing the Canon House Office Building and the Capitol will loom large before us.
We'll hang a right onto Independence and walk south again, heading back towards home. As we pass the first bar with outdoor seating, you may notice a bounce in your step as your body responds to the 60s-era rock coming from the motorcycle parked out front before your brain even realizes it's there. And then we'll be on Pennsylvania, past more friends and families and couples enjoying the early evening sun and a meal outside. A right on 10th takes us past the old military hospital, currently in the midst of preservation and looking like something right out of a horror movie. We'll step to one side and kids race past on bikes, screaming and laughing about who-knows-what, and we'll peer through open doors and windows to see how everyone else lives. We'll admire original moldings and built-in bookcases and we'll say"wow, that's orange" when we see one particular living room and then we'll be home.
And we'll know. For all the chaos and crime and pollution and politics, this home is a pretty wonderful place.
We'll start on 10th and make a left onto G. As we walk down G, be careful not to trip on the skateboarding ramp set up in front of the yellow house. And don't be frightened by the ginormous dog at the green house. As far as I can tell, he's harmless. You won't be able to stop yourself from smiling as that yuppie dad walks alongside his little girl while mom pushes a baby boy in the stroller. We'll be on G for awhile, passing under countless trees and past many tableaus. The three boys, all in dark, baggy jeans and crisp white tanks, freestylin' on the corner, using the mailbox as their beat box. The elderly couple, both in their Sunday best, making their way gingerly across the cobblestone. The Jeep full of Marines, cruising by, country music blasting from the radio.
Eventually, G will dead-end at Garfield Park and we'll cut through the middle, stopping to check out the tennis matches and the horseshoe game. We'll hear nannies gossiping in foreign tongues, pushing tow-headed children on swings next to J Crew catalog families catching up around the sandbox. And, if it weren't spring and the trees weren't in bloom, we'd catch a glimpse of the Capitol dome as we walked past the older man playing fetch with the dogs while his wife reads the Post on a bench nearby (both rocking popped collars with no sense of irony).
We'll leave the park and walk down 1st and soon rowhouses will give way to apartment buildings and suddenly we'll be passing the Canon House Office Building and the Capitol will loom large before us.
We'll hang a right onto Independence and walk south again, heading back towards home. As we pass the first bar with outdoor seating, you may notice a bounce in your step as your body responds to the 60s-era rock coming from the motorcycle parked out front before your brain even realizes it's there. And then we'll be on Pennsylvania, past more friends and families and couples enjoying the early evening sun and a meal outside. A right on 10th takes us past the old military hospital, currently in the midst of preservation and looking like something right out of a horror movie. We'll step to one side and kids race past on bikes, screaming and laughing about who-knows-what, and we'll peer through open doors and windows to see how everyone else lives. We'll admire original moldings and built-in bookcases and we'll say"wow, that's orange" when we see one particular living room and then we'll be home.
And we'll know. For all the chaos and crime and pollution and politics, this home is a pretty wonderful place.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Seriously...
Gifts don't matter and it is truly always the thought that counts, but the big bouquet of orchids that just made their way to my desk? I'm nearly speechless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)