Thank you!

Thank you to my friends who remind me that, though I'm a teacher, that's not all I am. I appreciate knowing that I am a friend, a sister, a daughter, and a teacher. My job is incredibly important to me, but it's not my entire identity.

Time is no friend of mine!

Third year teacher. I should have my ducks in a row by now. I shouldn't be in the classroom on Sunday at 5:00 prepping for the week. I shouldn't be ready to strangle my students (CPS, I am far from the actual action).

I have no time for anything. I have to prioritize my necessary activities and choose only the ones who must be done, life or death. I am taking classes, trying (and not succeeding) in leading the PTO, TEACHING 29 students how to speak, write, and read English, do math, and become effective citizens. I am exhausted. It's only the fourth week of school.

Ugh.

Solo surrounded by people

It's incredibly difficult to be in this position: a job where you are surrounded by people (parents, colleagues, and, of course, students), yet your regular, outside-of-work life is incredibly lonely. I've had (rather nosey) colleagues ask me if I go out, why I don't have a boyfriend, what I do with my time. In all honesty, I don't go out. I know no one outside of work. I don't have a boyfriend for a trillion reasons, some of the most prominent being my unattractiveness, my lack of time, and simply not knowing anyone. Even if I was completely gorgeous, is it possible to meet anyone if the only time you're away from work is your monthly trips to the grocery store or your daily trips to the mailbox? Without my job, I'd be a hermit; a shut-in; a talentless Emily Dickinson; a "New York death" in Phoenix. I wish someone would just pick me up and set me down in an already created life of friends and family. As a student, school was a natural way to make friends, but now, as a teacher, it's the opposite. I have zero local friends apart from colleagues. What do I do? Honestly, what do I do?

Some musings

Yesterday we had a Pretzel Party in class to celebrate all of the students passing their Binky words (the first set of sight words they practice; they are categorized by Arthur characters- the lowest is Binky, the highest is Bionic Bunny)! It was a proud moment for me, since the last one to move from Binky to Prunella was my resource student. The other members of his group worked with him daily since the day he came (about two weeks ago) to help him pass. It warms my heart!

So, my life revolves around school, as you all know. But--- the date of my dog-getting is fast-approaching. I want to make sure I have enough time to bond with him/her, so I'm going to get her the day after the last day of the school year: mid-May! Thanks for asking, Melissa!

Super-embarassing moment: Before school yesterday, I was in the office and the secretary (a woman who's been working at the school for forever, and speaks very bluntly) asked me if I had a boyfriend. When I answered in the negative, she asked why. What am I supposed to say? I do nothing but work? I don't have a life? Guys don't find me attractive? Well, I forget what I mumbled out, but then she asked if I was interested in anyone "around here." At first I thought she meant the Phoenix-area, but she meant within the school! First of all, even if I was interested in someone, how unprofessional would it be to tell our school secretary that? She began to list through the men at our school (most who are either married or in some other form of relationship). Those few minutes seemed to last FOREVER. Why must it be so hard to be single in a life of people who look down on singlehood?

Leave It Outside

Sometimes I think that a teacher is asked to be unhuman. She must be happy and excited 98% of the time, multi-tasking, concerned about everyone but herself, and, possibly hardest of all, she must learn to leave all personal (or sometimes professional) issues outside the door. Whether it's the death of a family member, the fact that she broke up with her boyfriend the night before, a rumor spreading denying her professional credability, nothing must effect her teaching.

Remembering when I was the age of my own students, I always thought that the teachers lived at school. I imagined Mr. Dickens putting the desks together to form a sort of bed, Mrs. Sulis tucking herself away into the cabinet for the night, etc. In a way, that's really who we are. I am Miss Sells, here for the twenty-five learners who grace my classroom with their presence five days a week. Since my personal struggles and dilemmas are not allowed to even enter my mind between 8:00 and 4:00, I might as well become the teacher who sleeps on her desk. It's often shocking when I realize there are people and situations outside of school. I spend so much energy on the school part, I forget that life is supposed to be more than that.