No no no no no no no

He died defending his children and therefore his country 12/21/13

Michael Landsberry
Marine, Teacher, Dad, Hero
Inspirational

(I can't let myself
feel this. It takes such a toll.)
He took a bullet...

Were all his papers
graded? His grades up-to-date?
How about his soul?

 (I keep wondering
what I would do, but all I
can do is wonder.)

Feeding Your Teacher-Soul

Let me lay down some truth:

1) No one understands this job who hasn't done it, but they all think they understand. People will always say stupid things like, "If you complain about grading it, why did you assign it?" They will say stupid things like, "You get out at 2:30 and get all those holidays off." It helps me to remember that if Jesus forgave people for crucifying Him, I should forgive such radical, deep-seated, COLOSSAL IGNORANCE of what it takes to do this job well. Keeps the old blood pressure low.

2) If you care about your job at all, Teacher Brain happens. This is a condition that is marked by the inability to think or talk much about anything else except what happened in the classroom and what you need to get done for school. Where ever you go, you are thinking about lesson plans or challenging students. It can make you verrrrry boring because all of your sentences begin something like, "Last Thursday in period 4...." In extreme cases of Teacher Brain, you dream about school all the time.

Now teaching is the most important job besides parenting. And I love it. But the Two Truths have made me doubt what I do at times.  Look, forever being misunderstood and isolated by my career's idiosyncrasies is no way to live my one precious life.

So here are some ways I've found to feed my Teacher-Soul.

a) Unplug. Choose one night a week to go screenless. No grading allowed. No planning. If at all possible, no talking. Find the quiet. Ahhh.

b) Read a book that is NOT a professional development book. (This is my favorite!)

c) Read Angela Watson's Awakened, a book specifically written to help us teachers deal with Teacher Brain and teacher burn out. It's reallllllly sensible, and since Watson was a teacher, she KNOWS.

d) Watch teacher movies that inspire you, not demean you. Say "yes" to "The Ron Clark Story," "Stand and Deliver," "Dangerous Minds," "To Sir with Love" and the like. Buy them. Watch them when you are down. Avoid movies that trivialize the true work of educators.

e) Schedule fun. If you don't, those @#$% essays will consume you and embitter you. (Not a pretty combo.)

f) Join social media that is deliberately teacher-uplifting. I am loving Angela Watson's "Encouraging Teachers" on MugBook. Talking to other people who really DO understand what you do is a safe place to vent without boring anyone, and no one will say profoundly STUPID things.

e) If you can swing it financially, keep your precious summers free of summer school. It'll take a little while for Teacher Brain to subside, but that time will rejuvenate you and ensure that you love your job even two decades after you started. Well, that's a personal testimony. But we simply MUST step away from the classroom for our own mental well-being.

f) Exercise! But you already knew that one, right?

Feeling lucky? I can't believe what I just said---

If Johnny Depp couldn't bring this style back,

 no one can

Test today.  "Who wants to wear the lucky tricorn hat?" I sing.  After winning a brief roshambo game, M. dons the hat.

As the test goes on, I ask, "Can you just FEEL the luck seeping into your brain from that hat?" Tolerantly, she nods her head.

Soon enough, M. rises to turn in her test. "Can you just FEEL the A-ness of your test?" Instantly
I turn red, and I wish I could, like Cher, turn back time and say "A plus-ness," but it is too late. The class laughs, and pretty swiftly,  the kids return to their tests.

Cher is trying to turn back time

But I think I will put that hat away.

Last Day....AGAIN: the life of a military kid

Today was B's last day at DP today. He is a fun kid with a quick sense of humor, the kind of guy who gets along with everyone. Kind of lazy about work, unfortunately, but definitely a bonus in the classroom. I am going to miss him--we all will.

After everyone else left for lunch and I signed off his parting grade (a C, but you guessed that), he got as serious as I've ever seen him: "In all my nine years of going to school, this is the only class that I have talked about every day after school with my family, telling them cool facts..." My eyes filled first, I think, but his voice cracked and down his tears came. We hugged and he sobbed, "I don't want to leave!" I sobbed with him.

It's unnerving when perpetually cheerful boys sob.

He wasn't crying about my class. He truly loves DP. "I finally got to like someplace!" he cried. He is a military child who has to move because his dad serves our country. "B, there are some great people at this school who will miss you, but listen: good people are everywhere, and there are awesome ones at your new school who are gonna be so lucky to meet you! Until you know them, yeah, this move is so lame. Do me a favor, B, and figure out who they are. Choose your friends carefully, ok?" His face was tragic, but he nodded. "Jeremiah 29:11 is for you, B--God has plans for you!" He nodded again and gave me a teary smile--we first met last year in Bible Club. We both reached for the Kleenex.

I am so grateful that he purposefully took the time to give me his appreciation, realizing each second in my bungalow was a precious second away from his friends. He pulled himself together, and then sped off to spend his last lunch with them.


JEREMIAH 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

The Temporary Amnesia of July and the Mystery of Exciting Housework

I'd forgotten.

I'd forgotten how much grading is generated by thoughtful instruction. I'd forgotten how much time it takes to carefully read and respond to thoughtfully done work, to give meaningful, helpful feedback.

I'd forgotten how, faced with ten piles of work, I suddenly get the mad urge to clean the house, which in all fairness really DOES need a good cleaning. It is a triumph of will to sit and grade and not run towards the vacuum.

Suddenly MugBook is compelling. Words with Friends is frolicsome, even when all I have is auuwiio. On a beautiful day, I simply must remember that I am employed serving wonderful people doing stimulating work.

Mostly, I'd forgotten about the incredible amount of time. I remember now.



(Note that I am writing this entry as the ten piles glare balefully at me.)

Wasn't it Ella Who Sang "Too Darn Hot"?

I am TOO CRABBY to be flattered. Three kids came back to visit on this first Friday of the new school year, all happy and sweet and nostalgic, but NO. The back of my knees were sticky and there was an actual creek running down my spine. I was able to take about fifteen minutes and then diplomatically closed up the room and ended the visit early. (For being loving and diplomatic in my physical and psychological condition, I expect a major award or a Nobel Prize or something.)

Don't get me wrong--my kids are great. They are champions, sitting there on the plastic chairs that save their body heat and generously return it to them, reading about Jamestown's trials and tribulations. But that room.....

No Friday is good, but especially do NOT come visit me on a Friday when my bungalow's thermometer is at 92°.

Go away.

Ego, Ants, and Houston, We Have Lift Off

7:00 am The light guy is in my bungalow to fix two of the ballasts. As he leaves, he says that now I can see my pretty face reflected. Aw. Whatever that means. I don't care, he called me pretty, he meant it,  and I'm a hundred years older than he is. 

8:00 am So I open the first pie box in order to cut the pie into unequal pieces for my first lesson, and--oh no: I had bought pies that needed to be cooked first. The pie is all gooey pumpkin slush.  Pujols.

8:05 am Head to Vons to buy ready-made pies. They have only apple. Apple pies are difficult to cut. Whah. I have no choice.

9:00 am The kids come up the ramp and we begin! The butterflies are there, but Teacher Mode kicks in and I remember how to do this. Um, there are ants EVERYWHERE. How do they find food so quickly? I move the pies to a safer, ant-free zone.

11:00 am I have my prep. It is the greatest prep ever--teach two, break, teach one, lunch, teach two. I can breathe and prepare for almost every class individually. I have time to file papers and put things away. This may just be The Year of Good Habits.

1:00 Lunchtime. My feet hurt. Why did I wear these shoes? Why is it a million degrees? Why is the lunch room so far away? Whah.

1:30 Class starts. I make a reference to when I was in 2nd grade and a kid mumbles, "That was forty years ago..." Welp, there goes my morning ego boost.

3:50 The first day is in the books! A girl from 7th period walks right up to me and says, "You taught us! Now it's YOUR turn to learn!" And she teaches me how to Dougie. !!! I know, right? Now I know how to Dougie (rather badly).

4:00 Time to get ready for tomorrow.

5:15 I roll out of the parking lot. While in the air-conditioned car, I make plans to go for a walk when I get home.

6:00 After laying inert on the balcony, I realize the walk isn't going to happen. I fight the urge to go to bed right away. I realize that dinner will be cold cereal.

6:30 I realize: if I want to go to bed early, what's stopping me?