I'm five weeks in to the hardest task I've ever been faced with. Most times I feel like I'm free-falling, faster and faster as the day goes, and then when it ends, the sensation subsides, and I kiss the sturdy spot where I stand, lacing it with praises for not splattering me, grateful that gravity did not ground me into oblivion.
That was a bit dramatic, perhaps, but not entirely inaccurate. I liken a first year of teaching to performing open-heart surgery while suffering from a severe concussion. I've never had a concussion, or performed surgery for that matter, but I imagine such a vital and complex yet scatterbrained position would be quite similar to what I'm facing.
I'm so busy I don't read all my emails–something I've always done; I'm so busy that I measure my free time in half-hours rather than hours; I'm so busy that days drag but weeks fly. I'm so busy that I don't even do everything I'm supposed to be doing. I actually put things off and then forget to do them. Such a workload is a novel thing for me...
With such responsibility comes the unceremonious elimination of certain phrases from my vocabulary–completely eradicated, like Dave's Killer Bread from my diet. (I should be compensated for all the shout-outs I'm giving that company and their delicious loaves.) Of course some of the lines below weren't ever in my verbal arsenal in the first place, but you get the idea hopefully.
And it's not just me who never says these things. In fact, they are absent from all first-year teachers' mouths as the result of the strains and pains of the job. If by some freakish chance there is a first-year teacher out there who says any of these lines, then that person is a fraud. First-year teachers just don't say these things.
1. I sure do love Mondays. The awesome potential for learning and growth on those days are phenomenal, because you have a whole week to explore and define and engage with your students. Honestly, I wish every day was a Monday.
Said no first-year teacher ever, or any teacher for that matter.
2. You know, I finally get it. For the longest time I thought, No way, they're just not for me. Plenty of people go their entire lives without having them, and I'll be one of them. But I can see how I was wrong before. I definitely want kids.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
3. Sorry I'm so sweaty. I just worked out, which is something I now do regularly.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
4. I always get a flu shot, but I think I'll be safe this year.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
5. You know, I'm trying this new behavior-management system. It's based on choice, accountability, and habit. It's been so successful that I haven't had to call a single parent for behavioral issues. That's right, I've only called with positive reports so far this year.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
6. My day was so boring.
(Each day is as unique as it is difficult, but never mundane and certainly never without a giggle or two. Case in point, one of my most helpful, focused students came up to me with ten minutes left in class and deadpanned: Mister, can I use your phone to call the police?)
7. (In September) I'm infusing some of my lessons with activities that will help prepare my students for testing come springtime.
8. (In October) I'm right on track with this unit plan. Oh, and I'm a week ahead on my lesson planning.
9. You know, I actually haven't thought about what I'm doing for Christmas. I guess it's just not really on my mind at this point.
10. I feel like I hardly talk about my students outside of school.
(Put two teachers in a room together, and odds are they'll be talking about their students. Put one teacher and one non-teacher in a room together, and chances are the teacher will be dominating the conversation with something about her students. Put one teacher in a room alone, and she'll probably be talking to herself about students. I'm guilty and you're guilty and you know it.)
11. I just wish all my classes were a tad bit longer.
12. I always have time to eat lunch.
(No, prospective teachers, you won't. Load up on those carbs now, you'll be needing them later.)
13. I sure wish I had more people dropping into my classroom, completely unannounced, to observe me. And I'd especially like them to come during the afternoon, when my students turn in to dragon-breathed midgets.
Those last three words...I'm just gonna leave you now as you ponder those babies.
That was a bit dramatic, perhaps, but not entirely inaccurate. I liken a first year of teaching to performing open-heart surgery while suffering from a severe concussion. I've never had a concussion, or performed surgery for that matter, but I imagine such a vital and complex yet scatterbrained position would be quite similar to what I'm facing.
I'm so busy I don't read all my emails–something I've always done; I'm so busy that I measure my free time in half-hours rather than hours; I'm so busy that days drag but weeks fly. I'm so busy that I don't even do everything I'm supposed to be doing. I actually put things off and then forget to do them. Such a workload is a novel thing for me...
With such responsibility comes the unceremonious elimination of certain phrases from my vocabulary–completely eradicated, like Dave's Killer Bread from my diet. (I should be compensated for all the shout-outs I'm giving that company and their delicious loaves.) Of course some of the lines below weren't ever in my verbal arsenal in the first place, but you get the idea hopefully.
And it's not just me who never says these things. In fact, they are absent from all first-year teachers' mouths as the result of the strains and pains of the job. If by some freakish chance there is a first-year teacher out there who says any of these lines, then that person is a fraud. First-year teachers just don't say these things.
1. I sure do love Mondays. The awesome potential for learning and growth on those days are phenomenal, because you have a whole week to explore and define and engage with your students. Honestly, I wish every day was a Monday.
Said no first-year teacher ever, or any teacher for that matter.
2. You know, I finally get it. For the longest time I thought, No way, they're just not for me. Plenty of people go their entire lives without having them, and I'll be one of them. But I can see how I was wrong before. I definitely want kids.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
3. Sorry I'm so sweaty. I just worked out, which is something I now do regularly.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
4. I always get a flu shot, but I think I'll be safe this year.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
5. You know, I'm trying this new behavior-management system. It's based on choice, accountability, and habit. It's been so successful that I haven't had to call a single parent for behavioral issues. That's right, I've only called with positive reports so far this year.
Said no first-year teacher ever.
6. My day was so boring.
(Each day is as unique as it is difficult, but never mundane and certainly never without a giggle or two. Case in point, one of my most helpful, focused students came up to me with ten minutes left in class and deadpanned: Mister, can I use your phone to call the police?)
7. (In September) I'm infusing some of my lessons with activities that will help prepare my students for testing come springtime.
8. (In October) I'm right on track with this unit plan. Oh, and I'm a week ahead on my lesson planning.
9. You know, I actually haven't thought about what I'm doing for Christmas. I guess it's just not really on my mind at this point.
10. I feel like I hardly talk about my students outside of school.
(Put two teachers in a room together, and odds are they'll be talking about their students. Put one teacher and one non-teacher in a room together, and chances are the teacher will be dominating the conversation with something about her students. Put one teacher in a room alone, and she'll probably be talking to herself about students. I'm guilty and you're guilty and you know it.)
11. I just wish all my classes were a tad bit longer.
12. I always have time to eat lunch.
(No, prospective teachers, you won't. Load up on those carbs now, you'll be needing them later.)
13. I sure wish I had more people dropping into my classroom, completely unannounced, to observe me. And I'd especially like them to come during the afternoon, when my students turn in to dragon-breathed midgets.
Those last three words...I'm just gonna leave you now as you ponder those babies.