My day of drama. Mundane, boring drama.

7: am I started working on grading and my planning for the day. I found my connection to the district server was not working, so I had no access to student grades or attendance online. I answered emails to administration about "Day of Silence" on Friday, because some parents were angry about it. (I answer these questions this every year, in response to the letter writing and calling campaigns that "family" organizations embark on every year. Because, you know, I have this evil agenda. I note that they are not teaching, or volunteering. Just bitching. But I digress.)

7:20 I got a phone call BEGGING me to an IEP meeting because a participant didn't show up and and I made the mistake of answering the phone and I'm a complete pushover, so... then at 8:56 I left the meeting and went downstairs to get ready to teach my first class.

9:15 a substitute showed up and announced she was my sub "for your IEP meeting at 9:30," For 25 minutes I attempted to show how to graph an equation by finding the intercepts. General education teachers are required by law to be at every IEP meeting, whether or not the child has a general education, or even if the teacher even knows the child. THANK YOU, No Child Left Behind - at 9:40 I left my class and went to my 9:30 meeting.

10:15 I came back to class, and was told that mini-Baboo had called because he was sick. I said I'd call back during my lunch. Then I started teaching my third block how to graph an equation using the intercepts.

11:15 - I ate lunch, and forgot to call Mini-Baboo, because I am a bad, bad, mommy. I did call the people who want to interview me for a counselor position. They can see me at 12:15 May 1st, the day we are supposed to leave for the Collegiate Peaks trail run.

11:30 I dashed off another quick email begging the technologist to fix my computer.

12:15 - Mini-Baboo called and begged me to take him home, with a headache, fever etc. I found a sub, sprinted to my car, drove to the high school, then called BACK to work to have the sub to take my keys off the whiteboard where they would certainly be taken by students, and took Mini-Baboo home.
Where I fed him stuff to help him feel better and put him to bed. Mini-Baboo informed me that his award ceremonly for JROTC was the evening on May 1st, the day I was supposed to leave for the Collegiate Peaks Trail run. My blood pressure skyrocketed as I sped back to work completely stressed about where I was going to be on May 1st.

12:46 my 4th block class protested their new seating arrangement. I informed them that with, or without a security guard present, this is where they would sit. Then I attempted to teach them how to graph an equation by using the intercepts.

1:15 Class was interrupted as a student was escorted out by a security guard, because she pulled the fire alarm yesterday. Yeeeeesss, that's right. There was a fire alarm yesterday and the whole school watched as firemen entered my classroom to search for a non-existent fire.
(I secretly worried that my lack of access to the district server was a sign that I was being fired for lack of classroom management, because that's the way I roll: All paranoid and stuff.)

2:00 I confided to the ASL interpreter that I wasn't sure how I was supposed to do ALL THIS CRAP. She sympathetically offered to make photocopes for me, which is so not her job. (I accepted.)

2:15 Outlook reminded me that I had a 2:30 meeting. In room 226. AND in room 529. $hit.

3:15 my first meeting was over. I called the counselor interview people to get a room number for the interview and was informed that the interiew was on May 9th, not May 1st.

3:15 I went to my other appointment, where I tutored a friend's son in using the quadratic equation, the meaning of the descriminant, etc.

4:00 I took my friend's son to the public library, and went home. I looked at the calendar and realized that we're leaving on May 2nd, not May 1st. My blood pressure finally came down.

A small margarita is 5 weightwatchers' points. Not worth it.

At 7, I'll go for a run. Or maybe 8.

17 more days until final exams. tick...tick...tick...tick...

...

spring: you can't see it, but it's coming.

My grades for the 3rd quarter are due on Friday.

I received an email reminding me (us) of how and when to export my (our) grades electronically and I realized, with a start, that the semester is half over. The general panic that sets in when kids realize that after Friday they cannot do anything to affect their grade, and the associated nagging that goes along with that as they beg, beg, beg for extra time or extra credit, is eclipsed by one fact that is undeniable:

My work year is 3/4 over. There is 1/4 of the year left.

In and among all the nonsense, over-bearing parents demanding special treatment for mi hito, gang members and the kids that have been expelled from other schools (and the one or two that I wish would get expelled from this one) is the certain knowledge of the coming of my golden summer.

My golden summer.

This is the reason that people teach. Don't misunderstand - it's not that teachers just bide their time until summer. It's just that we can ONLY do what we do if we are afforded some time each year because it takes about ten weeks for the bitterness and weariness to fade, and to get our sense of optimism and excitement and dedication in full gear again.

Actually, for many of us, optimism has faded somewhat by April, and then we hang in there because we know what's coming: we plant seeds in the spring and tend them during those ten golden weeks because they, at least, are far less heartbreaking for all our nurturing and tending.

I chose to work with kids: thrown out of other classes, other schools, or whom have recently been released from jail into the public school system. Every May I throw my supplies into boxes and say, "that's it, I've had it, next year will be my last. "

But then, over ten weeks, that certainty will fade. Ten golden weeks. My golden summer.

They're not so bad, I'll think, following my late morning nap.

Next year, I'll think as I sip my morning espresso, things will be different.

I will be different, I'll think, as I head out for my morning run.

mischivious imps! I'll think as I climb a hill on my bike.

For ten glorious weeks I will follow my bliss. Hang out with retired friends, like SW Tri gal and Hartley, if they'll have me. Unhurried. Unruffled. My clothing will be sporty-spice meets REI end-of-season-sale. I'll get up each morning, smell the fragrant chocolate flower, and then shower. I'll visit and subtly harass friends who get paid way more than me but don't have summer off. Maybe lunch with Sweet Baboo.
Maybe this year will be the year that I get that hammock, and read that growing pile of books I don't seem to get to during the school year.

And you want to give this up? Sweet Baboo asked.

Over ten, golden weeks I'll forget how horrid and frustrating it is between August and May. And in August, I'll head back for another year, full of optimism and excitement.
This year, things will be different. I'll be different.

My grades for the 3rd quarter are due on Friday.

spring is coming, and summer is right behind.

yesterday, I bought 5 packets of flower seeds.

....

Dude. Apparently, I'm like, a hippie and stuff.

in class this week:

Student A: So, hey, Mrs. P--so, were you like, a hippie back in the sixties?

Student B: Dude. Of course she was a hippie.

Me: Actually, I--

Student B: I mean, LOOK at her. She's like, a vegetarian and stuff.

Student A: Cool. We got a hippie teacher.

Me: But I was born in the sixties. I couldn't have--

(Above: Me and my hippie friends at a showing of "The Spirit of the Marathon" movie.)

Student C: So, like, what about the seventies? Were you a hippie then?

Me: Actually, I was in elementary school in the 70s. I'm more of an eighties chick.

Student A: But you like, eat all healthy and stuff.

Me: A lot of people eat healthy. That doesn't make them hippies. I've heard President Bush eats healthy food.

Student B: Dude. Of course she's a hippie. I mean, have you even see the bumper stickers on her car? She's all, "my other car is a bicycle" and stuff.

Me: Actually, that has more to do with--

Student C: Hippie! Hippie!

Student A: And I mean, like, you never wear suits and dresses and stuff like the other teachers.

Me: I wore a suit two weeks ago. i'm wearing a dress right now.

Student A: But that's like, a hippie dress.

Student C: My brother? He had you about four years ago? And he said you had really long hair, all the way down to your butt and stuff when he was in your class. He was all like, "Mrs. P is that hippie teacher, and she's all, 'put your bottles in the recyling bin' and stuff"

Student A: Mrs. P, it's okay that you're a hippie. We still like you.

Me: No, but you see I --

Student B: In fact, it's kinda cool that you're a hippie.

Me: I AM NOT A HIPPIE! I live in a gated community by the golf course!

Blank stares.

Then,

Student C: So, did you like, get all on LSD and stuff? and go to that big, you know music thing? With all the mud?

Student B: Dude. Of course she did. She was a stoner. You know she was.

Student A: I can't wait to tell my grandparents that my teacher was a hippie! So did you like, wear tye-dyed clothse and stuff?


~~~~

(This conversation was even more surreal, considering that this web site seems to have been penned by someone who followed me an Baboo around for year. )

...

Snow day! Woo hoo!

We had precipitation here in the desert last night, and it was frozen and stuff. Predictably, city officials flapped their hands a bit and after ascertaining that this was not the apocalypse they put school on a 2-hour delay.

So I headed into work early. Hmm. I know we're on a two hour delay, but where is everyone? I came in and sat down at my desk this morning in my nice, warm classroom. I would take advantage of the two-hour delay to get caught up on paperwork. A bit later, a janitor popped his head in my room, "Jeez, you guys are dedicated!" and then popped back out. Later, I went to get some water--still nobody around--and one of the maintenance crew said, "You know there's no school today, right?"

Uh, No, I did not know that.

Now that the streets are rapidly melting I head down to CompUSA to find out if there's a warranty on my dead laptop. Turns out that, indeed, in a rare moment of lucidity I purchased some sort of monster warranty that expires in 2011. Swweeeeeet.

Then Pirate called. Hey! Got your spin kit?

I, uh, what? Yes. No. I mean, it's at home.

Go home and get it--there's a spin class at noon!

Darn. Me without my list of excuses.

I. Love. Snow days. Especially when the snow melts before 11 am.

...