I do not. Need. Dental work.

Nothing too noteworthy has happened as of late, mostly because I’ve been busy transitioning to teaching without technology since my computer and projector are still down.  It’s kind of fun, pretending that I’m teaching in pioneer times-- I haven’t channeled Laura Ingalls Wilder since childhood. (Okay, maybe since adolescence.  Okay, maybe any time my power goes out at school or at home.)  But here is a little anecdote about Nutella, state testing, the movie Bridesmaids, and me being weird.

Testing season is already getting to me.

Earlier this week, my students took a practice test for the state exam, which means that I had the same kids in my room all day in total silence.  The way my room was set up for testing, they all faced me at my desk as they ate their lunches and as I ate mine.  If you’ve never had a classroom full of people watch you as your eat your lunch, just know that it is PAINFULLY weird having thirty sets of eyes eyeing you critically as you roll and eat your Boar’s Head Blazin’ Buffalo deli turkey slices (so good, by the way).

After I had finished my lunch, I got out a spoon for my standard post-lunch-spoonful-of-Nutella routine. One of them gasped.

“Miss, what is that?”

“Nutella.  It’s like chocolate peanut butter kind of.  Stop talking.”

“Ew, you just eat it like that? You’re weird.”

“STOP TALKING,” I repeated.  I put about half the spoonful in my mouth.  Then I recreated one of my favorite scenes from the movie Bridesmaids.

“I am not. Weird.” I said, with Nutella covering at least three teeth.  They lost their minds and we all lost the testing environment.

I should probably arrange to be absent for the real thing.

Love,

Teach

Letter to my students from today for them to read in 2023

Dear Students from Today, January 14, 2013,

I think it's safe to say I've had a terrible week.  Have you ever just had one of those days where you can't seem to go 15 minutes without messing something up?  For example, you wake up late, then can't find your keys, then burn yourself on a burner you accidentally left on the entire night, then step on the tail of one of the feral cats that stalks your apartment complex, then spill coffee on yourself on the way to your car?  (That was this morning, by the way.)  Nothing overly tragic or terrible, but the fact that it's in series is just really, REALLY discouraging?  I've had a week of it. For example:

-Last Tuesday, I locked myself out of my car.  In the rain.  Then the locksmith was an hour late and sassy, and, depressingly, I do not have the ability to write up other grown-ups. And I knew I had to be nice to him because I couldn't wait any longer for a different person to open my car.  And then I paid him $50 for his attitude and his little car-opening contraption that took 15 seconds, and it felt like one of the greatest defeats of my life.

-I have a late fee for a bill I wasn't able to pay because I registered for the service with my email address as gNail.com and it never registered to me that I wasn't receiving email alerts for that bill.  G-nail.

-My apartment fell apart.  And there are baby roaches everywhere.  I don't want to talk about it.

-I had to be out for two days of the first week back (last week) because of mandatory training for teachers in schools who don't meet AYP like ours.  Not only was I mad about being out of the classroom for that long, but all 16 hours of it were things I already have memorized/posters of/could have done a presentation on myself.  You are all keenly aware of how much I hate my time being wasted.

-Last night, I tried to make macaroni and cheese in advance for thing I had to go to tonight, and first burned it, then accidentally shaved part of a good chunk of a plastic ball into my pile of grated cheese (don't ask how).  Also, the recipe said "Easy Mac and Cheese" and it took me like two hours!  That is not easy. Then, I said to myself, "I will open this beer now and drink some of it, and that will take away some of the sting."  And then the beer exploded everywhere. (That is the second time that has happened this week.)

And THEN, after the morning I shared with you at the beginning of this letter, I stumble into school this morning to discover that my computer station, projector, and printer are all down.  Not working.  Not even a little bit.  Nothing.  As you'd better remember (or I'll find you), the lesson was on how to write an expository essay and required the use of my computer and definitely my document camera/projector.  As you probably won't remember, you have a serious district test over this information in about three days, so it's not the type of thing I could put off until later.  Only a few minutes before class started, I put my head down on my desk and just sat there.  I was too tired to cry or to even dream that the day might get better.

But it did. Every single period today, I started off by simply saying that my computer and projector were down, and that I would need you to be the precious, understanding little munchkins that you are because of the importance of today's lesson.  And every single period, you shocked me.  You LISTENED to a lecture on how to write an expository essay for FORTY-FIVE MINUTES without goofing off, falling asleep (or maybe some of you did with your eyes open), participated when I asked you to, and on top of everything, were just extraordinarily sweet to me.

It is days like today, after weeks like this week, where I am proud to be a teacher.  Specifically YOUR teacher.  If you ever dare to let yourself feel like you are useless, or that nobody notices you, or that you haven't absolutely made a difference, I want you to know that you saved me today.  All of you made that choice (because behavior is absolutely a choice), and it reminded me how it feels to be completely surprised by joy.

I love the crap out of you.

Love,

Teach

Whisper Turtleneck

This story is just more proof that I'm insane.

I bought a thin, black turtleneck this weekend to go under several warmer-weather dresses that I have because a) I’m a Puritan and adore anything concealing,  b) layering is much cheaper than buying new clothes, and c) if I wear thick turtlenecks I will drown in my own sweat.  J. Crew has these turtlenecks they’ve named whisper turtlenecks because they’re thin, and J. Crew can’t just call them thin turtlenecks because… well,  it’s  J. Crew.  Also, I was able to use my teacher discount which made me raise the roof to my cashier.

Anyway, I’m wearing the whisper turtleneck today, and was walking around the back of the school after manning my station for morning duty.  I walk around the back of the school instead of going through the middle for two reasons: a) I’m about to spend 8 hours in a room with roughly 30 people and I need all the alone time I can get, b) the back of the school looks out over the football field, and in the early morning it’s easy for me to pretend that the football field is actually an English meadow. (Believe it or not, I haven’t made it to the part where I prove that I’m insane.)

As I’m walking around the back of the school, looking out over the meadow behind my imaginary English cottage with a brown cow named Horace, I started thinking about my new whisper turtleneck. 

What a funny name, I thought. Whisper turtleneck.  Sounds like a command.  Whisper turtleneck or I’ll kill you.

“Turtleneck,” I whispered out loud.

“What’d you say?”

 I looked up, startled. A colleague of mine was about fifteen feet to my right, by the side of the building, grinning.

“Uh,” I laughed nervously.  “Nothing.  I didn’t see you there.”

“No,” he insisted. “You said something.  What did you say?”

You asked for it, I thought.

“I whispered ‘turtleneck’ because I bought this turtleneck this weekend and it’s called a whisper turtleneck,” I said.  I laughed, hoping he’d join in.  He tipped his head to the side like a confused animal.

“Wait… what?” He’s a math teacher, and looked as if he was actually trying to figure out my situation as a word problem in his head.  A teacher walks around the back of the school by herself whispering articles of clothing  for entertainment.  If she’s in her 20s, unmarried, and wearing a turtleneck, about how long will it take for her to acquire 40 cats and be on Hoarders at her current rate of crazy?

“Turtleneck,” I confirmed. “Welp, have a good one!”

I cackled all the way to my room.

Love,

Teach

DEVOLSON

Hello.  Sorry it's been so long.  I seem to have fallen into DEVOLSON.

DEVOLSON is an acronym I invented that stands for the Dark, Evil Vortex of Late September, October, and November.  It's kind of a homophone for "devil's son," which is intentional.  I discovered that it's the time of the school year where teachers are the busiest, craziest, and, usually the saddest.

Whoever invented the school year (and whoever continues to create academic calendars) is responsible for DEVOLSON.  There is no greater period of transition and stress in a school year than the beginning, and, conveniently, this period of transition is an 11-week track completely free of any significant breaks.

I'm doing fine morale-wise, but let me show you the kind of crazy that manifests itself in my head and life as a result of how busy I am during DEVOLSON.

1) I almost decided to teach in England next year.  Less than two weeks later, I completely changed my mind.

2) My vehicle started shaking uncontrollably one day because I was under the impression that oil changes were a "once a year" event.  (When I reported this to my father, I could hear his palm smack his forehead over the phone.)  Don't worry.  It's fixed now.

3) I had a dream that I had lunch with my old American Girl doll who encouraged me to bring all my cats to a hotel in San Diego that she now owned.  (I don't have any cats.)

4) I tried to punish a student for snatching a paper out of his neighbor's hand by repeatedly attempting to give him a paper cut to show the danger of his actions. For the sake of my job, I'm glad I was unsuccessful.

5) I awoke at 2:45 AM one Saturday night to knocking on my back door and let in a complete stranger, thinking it was my roommate's friend.  We both realized he had the wrong address very quickly.

6) I have almost no money (still) because I keep buying things like this:

(The hat, not the baby.)

7) While speaking to my appraiser a few weeks ago, a huge flaky booger floated out of my nose like an autumn leaf and rested on my chest.  I was wearing a navy shirt.  He noticed.  I died a little.

8) I might buy a house.

9) I just blamed my booger in #7 on an acronym I made up.

That's all.

Hoping your DEVOLSON leaves you less crazy than mine already has.

Love,

Teach

Some Super Awkward 90s Book Covers

My predecessor taught 20 years before retiring from my school.  Thankfully and unthankfully, she left around a billion books in my classroom, and so I've been spending the better part of my teacher workdays organizing them by genre. In doing so, I have discovered that there was roughly a 10-year era in the publishing of young adult literature where book covers were dominated by a style I like to call Super Awkward Realism. Here are some quintessential book covers from the period I've found in my sorting:

This cover is what gave me the idea for this post.  Anyone else's first reaction involve the title Nothing Butt the Truth?

 I'd be worried, too, if a nude feral child was stalking me from behind a jetty.

The caption stole the words right out of my mouth.

 

No comment.  Absolutely no comment.

 Girl in Exile, or Boy in Braids?

"'Always telling Sally what to do. 'Girls tend the garden,' they say. 'Boys get to laugh and play,' they say. We'll see who's laughing soon. Their joy shall turn to ashes in their mouths..." --Girl in this picture

A more awkward pose would be difficult to arrange. Also, this is what it looks like when a student tries to hug me.

I... I can't....

Awkwardly and lovingly,

Teach

P.S. In-service at new school: awesome. Stay tuned for a big surprise!

Last Day Eve

Right now I'm laying in bed typing, finishing off the last of my Haagen-Dazs vanilla milk chocolate and almond ice cream bar (which almost brought me to tears), and considering how to tackle the task of reflecting on my time as a teacher leading up to this point. 

Tomorrow, I will say goodbye to kids who I have spent almost 400 hours with since August.  I've seen them at their worst and their best, and they've seen me at both of mine.  I have spent more "real" time with these young people than I did my own family, friends, and even my own roommates in that same amount of time, and tomorrow our relationship will, for the most part, come to a pretty abrupt halt.  Some of them I have had for two years in a row now.   So (counts on fingers) like 800 hours.

There will be other goodbyes tomorrow-- the incredible and crazy teachers I work with, cleaning staff that I might kidnap, clerks and administrators, my classroom, and the drive to school that has become so natural.  A goodbye to familiarity itself.  There will be a lot to write about.


But not tonight.  It's my bedtime.

Love,

Teach

P.S.  But seriously, the Haagen-Dazs was amazing.

Student Appreciation Week: Up Close and Personal

Just in case you needed to restore your faith in humanity, I thought I'd share some of my students' reflections on this week with you.

From Day 2: Worthy

Reflection: Write a statement about your worth.

 "People say I'm weird, but I KNOW that I am my own unique individual.  And I'm okay with that."

 "I need to stop thinking that I'm ugly, fat, unpopular, and unworthy because actually I'm worthy I'm opposite of all that."

 "I need to shake off all the things people say about me because I'm not what they say I'm strong and not weak."

From Day 3: Powerful

Reflection: Write a statement about your power.

 (From top)

"I feel powerful when I am happy"

"I feel powerful when I do the right thing"

"I feel powerful when I start dancing, I know I'm shy to dance in front of people. But music is my life!"

 "I want to use my power to help people and help people fix their problems."

 "I feel powerful when I hep hlep help someone." :)

From Day 4: Unique

Reflection: Write three things that make you unique.

 "It's hard for me to get mad, I have a really good sense of humor, I'm always jumpy and happy"

(Students were instructed to write three things that make them unique)

"ADHD makes me my version of normal, my thinking makes me my version of normal, my agility and flexibility make me my version of normal" (We discussed the non-existence of "normal" :)

"Fastidious, full of positive energy, thoughtful-- full of thoughts"

From Day 5: Capable of Greatness

Reflection: Finish this sentence: "I am capable of...."

 "I am capable of going to high school and college and a lot of other places"

 "I am capable of changing the world artistically"

 "I am capable of bringing more happiness to the world :)"

"I am capable of doing whatever I want to do"

Yeah you are! :)

Love,

Teach