“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.” — Charles Dickens, from A Tale of Two Cities
I was reminded of this quote the other day, and couldn't have connected with it more. I feel like my world right now is a walking double negative. I mean, I don't not love teaching, but I don't not want to crawl under a rock and stay there forever sometimes either.
I don't want to become a "Saturday Only" blogger, but until my weekdays stop eating me alive, it looks as though that's my only option. This week was particularly difficult, for many reasons I will explain shortly.
My favorite part of my day is when I'm with my students. I LOVE every minute of it. When I'm watching them discover through their own curiosity or make connections because of something I explained to them is the most fulfilling aspect of my life right now.
So, what's the problem you may ask? Well, this Wednesday, As I was bending down to move Guinicula's cage so that I could have more room on my back shelf for the lighting system that had to be set up for our planting unit we would be starting the following day, I heard the most cliche ripping sound coming from the backside of my skirt. My eyes became the size of pancakes and I felt on my behind to assess the damage. Yep, from hem to hem. My skirt had completely torn down the backside. Of course that particular day was laundry day, and I was wearing my most ridiculous pair of granny panties. This. is. my. luck.
It was after school, so I didn't exactly forcefully insert that horrific image into my student's nightmares, but I also had no time to run home and change or go to a store and buy something because our school's Curriculum Night was starting in about an hour, which meant I was about to have a classroom full of parents to deal with. I held my skirt together and ran across the hall to my co-worker who could only find one safety pin to try and hold my skirt together. Great. Now I look like I'm going clubbing. As all of my teammates stood around me trying to stifle their laughter, one of them finally spoke up and said in her most demure southern accent, "I don't know, I just always thought you young girls wore those G strings."
All's well that ends well I suppose, because another one of my teammates lives across the street from the school, and she loaned me a skirt. I mean, I guess that's what I get for complaining about how young I look all the time. Dress me in a skirt that belongs to a 50 year old.
I'm learning a lot and trying to be reflective about everything I do. It's difficult being on a team with such veteran teachers, because they have all got teaching down to a science. The easy thing for me to do would be to take the way they do things, and do them that way too. The challenge, however, is to observe and reflect on how they do things, and decide how they fit into who I want to be as a teacher. I don't want to simply be a carbon copy of someone else. I don't want to fill anyone's shoes but my own.
It was a good week for the most part, and I'm hoping life settles down as I get into the groove.
On a final note, I championed a completely new definition for what it means to "cover your ass."