I'm back at school again, and while I shall refrain from mentioning the particular institution at which I work, I will say, its back to prayers and uniforms and lots and lots of iphones.
I hadn't really expected to be back here this year. I had made the difficult decision that I wasn't really cut out for teaching high school and was going to pursue something else. I wasn't sure what; there was an ocean of time ahead of me in May, in which I could contemplate for what and where life had fitted me. I was nervously looking forward to it too. I had ideas (GIS, programming, other techy things), but no hard plans. I just knew that teaching wasn't it.
The kids were disappointed, for the most part (I'm sure there were a couple who were glad to hear I wouldn't be back), but understood...or at least understood as well as any teenager can why I didn't want to do something I didn't love every single day. Actually, they probably understood that better than a lot of people, having been shoved into a desk for hours every day and told to listen. And they knew it wasn't really about them, surprisingly enough. Teenagers, I have learned, know when you're heart's not in it. They have a keen sense of genuine-ness (for lack of a better word). My kids knew that I'd much rather just chat about what was going on in the world and what they thought about it than buckle down and be some grammarian task master. They preferred that too (of course they did!).
We kept the kids involved in the selection process for my replacement. There were a couple of applicants. There was even a demo lesson. But nobody seemed right. My colleague and friend begged me to stay...just one more year, Lauren. One more year. Nope, not one more year, if it meant part-time at something I didn't really reeeeeeeally want to do.
But then, the second to last week of school, the Human Resources manager emailed me. Would I be willing to supervise two Quiet Study periods? The pay wasn't very good, she said, but it kept me on campus the requisite 5 class periods that would make me eligible for benefits. After teaching at the local community college, the pay didn't surprise me; it was low. But all that was being asked of me for those two extra periods was to supervise kids as they did their homework. Just keep an eye on them in study hall. And for that, I would suddenly become eligible for amazing health and retirement benefits.
So here I am again. The first week of school is now over and my feelings are mixed. I'm happy to be around the kids again; they keep you young with their exuberance and excitement. Its easier than years past in certain ways, too: my lessons are already made. I have two free periods to plan and prepare for the next day's classes. I know more of the kids.
But its difficult to go back on a decision. To get back into the something I didn't think I'd be doing. To find the energy to be excited about teaching again. To fake it. Some of the kids will know that I'm faking it too, and that makes it just a little harder.
The silver lining? I can stop worrying about doctor's visits and car accidents. I can save up some money for the all those ideas I have. And in the grand scheme of things, one more year isn't so long.
Is it May yet?
I hadn't really expected to be back here this year. I had made the difficult decision that I wasn't really cut out for teaching high school and was going to pursue something else. I wasn't sure what; there was an ocean of time ahead of me in May, in which I could contemplate for what and where life had fitted me. I was nervously looking forward to it too. I had ideas (GIS, programming, other techy things), but no hard plans. I just knew that teaching wasn't it.
The kids were disappointed, for the most part (I'm sure there were a couple who were glad to hear I wouldn't be back), but understood...or at least understood as well as any teenager can why I didn't want to do something I didn't love every single day. Actually, they probably understood that better than a lot of people, having been shoved into a desk for hours every day and told to listen. And they knew it wasn't really about them, surprisingly enough. Teenagers, I have learned, know when you're heart's not in it. They have a keen sense of genuine-ness (for lack of a better word). My kids knew that I'd much rather just chat about what was going on in the world and what they thought about it than buckle down and be some grammarian task master. They preferred that too (of course they did!).
We kept the kids involved in the selection process for my replacement. There were a couple of applicants. There was even a demo lesson. But nobody seemed right. My colleague and friend begged me to stay...just one more year, Lauren. One more year. Nope, not one more year, if it meant part-time at something I didn't really reeeeeeeally want to do.
But then, the second to last week of school, the Human Resources manager emailed me. Would I be willing to supervise two Quiet Study periods? The pay wasn't very good, she said, but it kept me on campus the requisite 5 class periods that would make me eligible for benefits. After teaching at the local community college, the pay didn't surprise me; it was low. But all that was being asked of me for those two extra periods was to supervise kids as they did their homework. Just keep an eye on them in study hall. And for that, I would suddenly become eligible for amazing health and retirement benefits.
So here I am again. The first week of school is now over and my feelings are mixed. I'm happy to be around the kids again; they keep you young with their exuberance and excitement. Its easier than years past in certain ways, too: my lessons are already made. I have two free periods to plan and prepare for the next day's classes. I know more of the kids.
But its difficult to go back on a decision. To get back into the something I didn't think I'd be doing. To find the energy to be excited about teaching again. To fake it. Some of the kids will know that I'm faking it too, and that makes it just a little harder.
The silver lining? I can stop worrying about doctor's visits and car accidents. I can save up some money for the all those ideas I have. And in the grand scheme of things, one more year isn't so long.
Is it May yet?
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