A Beautiful Profession

Yesterday was an emotional day.  I kept waiting for my period all day to help explain why I turned into a sulky 16 year old emo kid, but there was no period to be had.

Yesterday marked my 1 month anniversary as a high school English teacher.  No fanfare, no flowers, no Hallmark card, just a long day of bemoaning teenagers struck with early cases of Senioritis and bitchiness.  My overall experience as a first year teacher has been pretty amazing.  I eagerly look forward to each new day where I can to see my kids and work with them on deconstructing feminist fairy tales, or essays written by marginalized minority groups who are searching for voice and identity (I love my job).  My students challenge me on a daily basis and I love it, but yesterday was not one of those days.

Actually, all of last week was pretty horrible.  I spent my two days off (Rosh Hashanah) in my yoga pants/pjs watching an Entourage marathon (the obvious upside) on HBO and grading mountains of papers (the obvious downside).  In hindsight I should have spent my two days off at the park, at the museum, at a concert, at a happy hour somewhere in the city... I should have been far far away from my folders of exams and essays. 

On Friday, the universe felt off.  Was there a full moon that night?  I walked into... no... rather I ran into school that day late.  I was exhausted and just could not get out of bed to save my life.   No time for breakfast, and my lunch (Chinese food leftovers) was still sitting pretty in my fridge.  All day I thought about that Sesame chicken.  

My first class of the day had an exam.  All went well.  The kids were sweaty and looked nervous. Mission accomplished.

My second class was out for blood.  They had recently received their fairytale projects back and many were upset about their grade (mind you, these were the projects I spent 2 days grading) and it carried over into that day's class.  They fought having to write a 2 page double space personal response essay about their childhood monster, and they also fought me on having to create a correlating visual.  I was pissed.  I was tired, emotional, hungry, and extremely sensitive that day.  

I get to school on most days at 7.30 and usually leave school at around 6.30.  Why?  Because I want my kids to have the absolute best learning experience every single day, and because this is my very first year teaching them I have absolutely no resources to pull from... I have to create everything for the first time.  My job has consumed me.  A month in and I've turned into a crazy workaholic.    

When I heard my lazy (but lovable) 12th graders complaining about an easy 2 page weekend homework assignment I went off and I wasn't going to take prisoners.  I glared at them and called out those that were rudely talking to their friends when I was talking, shot down hands that tried to interject (whine) about the assignment, and saw red the whole time.  I couldn't wait until class was over.  I wanted to run out.  I felt horrible for losing my temper like that.  I wish I hadn't.  I wish I had handled the whole thing differently, but everything had to be said.  I can't be the sweet, new teacher.  I needed to gain their respect and be the hard-ass.

I've let this job take over me that I'm having difficulty separating myself (Carol Lynn) from Miss Pickens from the assignments that I give.  Right now everything and everyone is lumped together and if you insult one, you insult them all. I later apologized to the students that I felt I had snapped at too much (and they didn't even know what I was talking about).  I love how easily kids move on.  I need to be that easygoing.  

I got home last night close to 7.3o, curled into bed, and just started to create a major wish list that consisted of things that I would do/ should do with my free time.  This week has taught me that I need to establish major boundaries between my professional life and my personal life.  Jaydip (my special friend) has really been wonderful through all this.  I can barely stand myself, and he's been such a little Dr. Phil.  

When I was in grad school many of the veteran teachers often commented on  the lack of social life they had, and how many relationships died due to the hectic and demanding 1st year teacher schedule.  Mine has thrived.  I feel like Jay and I are in a better place because of the tension.  I'm realizing and am able to see the wonderful guy in my life, in a new light, in a new role.

Thank you to everyone who has made it this far in my very first "from the desk of..." blog entry. Hopefully I will be committed and faithful to post on a somewhat regular basis.

x,

Ms. P