Haven't written in a while...

And I'm still not sure I have anything to report now.

It's still January, finally nearing the end, and I'm boring myself. I'm in that rut that happens when spring hasn't come but everyone's kinda getting sick of winter. In the north, where I'm from, that happened in February, but here it seems to have happened already, with the weather being nice and cruelly awful in turns, and midterms coming only in two weeks even though we've had our 100th day of school last week.

I haven't given a real test all year, and I'm giving one for the midterm (at my director's request). Writing the review sheet is something I'm strangely dreading. I have about enough energy to sit during a free period and make smartboard slides for the next day, but that's about all the planning I've done since I came back, and I have a class for whom I don't even always do that.

I have half my students failing because of missing work I haven't chased them for, we had a meeting with the head of school about the negative school culture, and today I had to kick three kids out of my desk drawer because no, I don't let them rummage through my emergency snack (or pencil) supply.

I give free time at the end of lessons because I don't want to listen to myself talk, I gave a quiz just to stump kids and prove to them they have to take better notes, and in the deadness of January I feel myself becoming the monster of the teacher I most didn't want to be.

I can't remember when was the last time they even successfully worked in partners. And I was the queen of projects.

And I admitted in front of a class today that I don't actually think Mishna's all that important in teh grand scheme of life (though it was in a lecture about respecting others trumping all) because honestly, I'm not so sure right now that it is.

Because the most important thing right now, or the only thing that seems to matter, is hanging on to that lead-line and following it through without falling off until spring.

Guest Blogger Entry

Courtesy of a fellow Cohort 8er who teaches in NY...

today in class my student asked me 'did this happen' about the story of eliezer and rivka at the well.

i let the other kids be like 'we're never going to know if it happened. it's a question of belief.'

'but sophie, do YOU think it happened'

'i'm not going to answer that right now'

'but it's really important'

'you're distracting from the story'

(i had tried to get them to act out the story, which they were excited about, but excitement + crazy kids = INSANITY and WAY TOO MUCH GIGGLING. oh well)

what i did not do:
a) talk about type scenes (though they brought up moshe and miriam. they meant tziporah but i don't have time to correct every mistake they make and they learn)
b) talk about how it doesn't matter

but really, i hate giggly, disrespectful 9th grade girls (who are also mean. some of them, not all of them). who turn my plans for trying to make learnign fun so they don't have to read all of a really long perek into 'let's laugh at x.'

YES!

The First Day Back

Was a dream.

It was like the first day of school again, only better, sweeter, and more chilled. As if the worst was over, the eye of the storm had been reached, and the other side had arrived, but much less scary.

I'm standing at the top of the mountain, looking down at the great expanse of snow reaching out in front of me and knowing that I'm not the only one that can do it. My students can, too.

In the two weeks since we've been gone, my 8th graders have finally stopped hating me, my advisory has made a truce to not be snotty to each other, and the other teachers actually look like people. We even sat and drank tea at lunch, chatting in Hebrew about nothing, not about students.

I don't even care that I have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow, that I just got suckered into some weird Tu B'Shvat shuk thing, and that I still have trouble keeping my class quiet for more than 30 seconds. I did dream up some new ideas, but I'm giving myself three weeks for them to percolate, because suddenly I'm not in a rush. I didn't think about school at all for two weeks until yesterday morning, I know I never would have done that in August, and I am proud.

This morning I was not nervous; I knew not only all the students names but their histories, their moms, and what computer games they like. I'm their teacher, they are my students, and they were happy to see me and happy to be back. Some even complimented me on my haircut and let me talk in opening circle about my vacation, not just about theirs. Some difference from that first terrifying day of school.

I am a teacher, and I'm ready to jump off the ski-lift and enjoy every minute of the downhill slope until June.

And that is why we have vacation.