In the Lou

Sometimes things seem to fall into place in odd ways. Other times, it seems like things are being guided into place in odd ways. I think that my transfer was an example of the second.

On Friday, I was sad. I was bummed. I was all the normal things that would happen when you get pulled from your classroom. (more…)

My entire classroom was killed off in 2 hours. All posters, staplers, file holders, construction paper and everything else packed into my Nissan Sentra, which still has a flat tire.

Saying goodbye to the students was sad. I’m glad that I, as team leader, just decided that we would have a town-hall meeting to inform them. I didn’t want to be yet another person who just abandoned them. Now the kids know that I’m not just abandoning.

As part of my exit strategy, I mapped out the use of my room for an 8th grade laboratory space. Under my proclamation, one classroom will be for direct instruction and the lab space for labs. Now science as well as other subject areas can have a hands-on learning space. It really is going to be great. I made sure to get the blessings of all administrative parties.

In my short time, I know I was “doing the right thing.” It was clear to me through the actions of many today that my time at Long was valued.

As for my next stop, I have info that there may be a science spot at a ninth grade center. It’s “in the warzone,” as many would say. If that doesn’t pan out, I might need to look into teaching math or other subjects. One thing is for sure… I have a paid day off on Monday (and for that matter, paid days until I have a new school).

On the way to happy hour I realized what the real pisser of all this is. I now own 12 white dress shirts and probably won’t need to wear only white every day at my new school.

As I stop for a minute to write this, I’m packing up Room 212 at Long Middle School. Man, I have a lot of stuff.

I don’t know where I’ll be going next — well at least not in the way of teaching. Literally, I know. All my coworkers are waiting for me at a bar.

Througout my Teach for America training, the need for flexibility has been stressed. But, in my few short weeks on the job, no week has tried me more than this one on the point of being flexible.

The sound of music

This past Sunday, I had planned it all out. I was going to head into the TFA office to do some copying and planning. My goal was to get my documents created for most of the week and printed. As I was working on some documents, a friend mentioned something about how we was readying to leave in order to attend a concert.

I came to a dead stop. Somehow, the fact that I also had a ticket has vanished from my radar screen. What upset me was not that I could have possibly missed a great concert with Sufjan Stevens (playing at The Pageant and sold ou) to which I had a ticket. What upset me was that I had not detected that I had let my job overtake too much of my available mental energy. I had slipped. Were/Are there other details that slipped as well?

A shocking way to start the week

I had my handouts copied already. I had my demo materials purchased. I was ready to go for Monday. In fact, I decided to sleep in for 15 minutes.

And so, when my music started playing, I hopped out of bed eager to start out a well-planned day. I turned on the shower, I grabbed a clean undershirt and pair of boxers, and then I started to step in to get so fresh and so clean clean. But just as I was about to step into the strong stream of water I noticed something a little odd. The shower curtain wasn’t billowing about as usual because of the air exchange between the hot and cold air. In fact, there was no rushing air. The reason: there was no hot water.

It’s 5:30 a.m. I have no hot water. I need to get freshened and shaved and out the door by 6 a.m. Thank goodness I purchased a microwave a few weeks ago.

After school, I’m basically running out to get home to do my planning for Tuesday. I need to get it done before I go to pick up a student for a Cardinals baseball game. Seconds before I’m ready to leave (I already have my stuff in hand), the curriculum coach comes through the hall asking if I’m going downstairs. Downstairs? For what?

It turns out that the optional professional development was not optional for the eighth grade teachers. I didn’t know, and I hadn’t made sure that my team new. Note to self: unwrap team calendar and start filling in the dates.

Think quick…

Tuesday rolls around. Lesson is going great. It’s 6th period — right before lunch. I’m working with the students group to group as they build models of the three states of matter with marshmallows and toothpicks. To my surprise, as I turn around to move from one group to another, I spot my TFA program director walking in for my formal observation.

I can’t explain how surprised I was. I knew that she would be visiting soon, but I thought it was going to be next week. I literally just stopped and looked at her for a second (mouth probably gaping). At first I was thinking “Uh oh. I didn’t make sure that everything is order before she got here.” Then I realized that it’s better that I didn’t know. I was caught being good, doing the right thing, and I just had it on my schedule regardless of a possible visit.

I stayed late at school trying to clean up a bit and get ready for Wednesday. By the time [the story continues for a long time, but the computer ate it up]…