It's been a while...

Due to some struggles in my personal life and with my own mental health, I haven't been focusing on my professional life with as much zeal as normal. All things considered, and upon relfecting, I am in an entirely different place than I was seven weeks ago.

The school year has started to settle into a nice rhythm, and no one has died - yet. I daresay I even "like" my new site.

I still find that the majority of my work is difficult, and I have the classic scenario of a teacher being "dumped on" at their new site, but I know that I haven't been given a challenge that I cannot handle. 

Some of the students are rather endearing. Most of the eighth grade students, however, remind me of the importance of birth control. They are caught between the "I am the oldest student in the school and we are almost adults" and "I am immature and that's cool."

Perhaps the best part of this year is that there is truly and opportunity to make a difference. I am taking my time and making sure that students understand versus "know" what's going on. I don't put up with the same crap, and I will continue to use those peers who care as sounding boards and resources.

If only it were June, I'd sleep more.

The first week... and beyond.

I don't know that I can write fast enough or with enough focus to recount the first week of school.


I thought about the other "first days" I have had, both as a teacher and as a student. Focusing on being a teacher, I realized that I cannot, for the life of me, remember what my first days of other years were like. It is almost like I lived them in an alcoholic state of blackout, going through the motions, but unable to remember what those particular motions were.


The first day of this year will be no exception. I was so overwhelmed by everything new: new school, staff, students, procedures, class size, room, et cetera. After my first day, I began to feel something I rarely feel, or at least rarely (if ever) admit to feeling - regret.


This regret passed over me like a wave of spontaneous and unprecedented nausea. I felt sick, disgusted, and most of all, disappoint. I was disappointed in myself for making a decision I didn't have to make. Sure, the grass is always greener, but sometimes, it's harder to mow.


Welcome to my Lewis experience.


Without getting into too much detail, I feel as though it is the opposite end of the spectrum from which I found myself last year. I have so many special needs in my class, low performers, ELs, and even a handful of moderate to severe special day class students. I was so overwhelmed, I thought that I might sit in my classroom after school and cry. To make matters worse, I have a class that I have already labeled as "least favorite" and I can't believe that that has happened so soon.


After the first couple of days, I reached out to a couple of people, just to vent, and finally became able to articulate my pain. I felt as though, for lack of a better term, I lost my "mojo" and I felt uninspired, disheartened by the bleak snapshot presented to me. I had lost my perspective on things.


I am slowly but surely getting my perspective back. I am managing classroom behaviors better than ever before, but I am feeling sensitive, more so than before. I know that I am being harder on my students, and myself, because I know the task that lies ahead is daunting. I don't want them to form bad habits now, and I don't want to yell later. I want to be able to teach, and creating that setting is taking time, and I am not a patient man. These students are not going to win, and I am becoming more impressed with myself.


I never like to feel as though I can't accomplish something. I have struggled mightily with depression the past few months, and sometimes getting out of bed is difficult. This new experience will serve as motivation to, for the first time, prove me wrong. I am no longer seeking the adoration or affirmation of others. I want to hone my skills and make goals for myself. I want to see the shining lights behind the eyes of those previously uninspired. I want to feel as though I can make a difference where no one else could. 


Last year, I found it easy to relate and teach. I had classes that other would kill for. I gave it up to do something different and, boy, did I get that. 


I am still a bit heartbroken to have left behind so good a position, but then I think about those people who made the most difference in the world. They didn't make a difference taking the easy route or being dealt a good hand. They taught others to do the best they could with what they had and inspired a generation to want more.

“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future." - Fulton Oursler For now, I feel growing sanity and relief, but I know the path will not be simple, and a few supporters may be needed along the way. This is, after all, only one week in. May God have mercy on us all...

Tenured: year four

This year marks my fourth year teaching, and I have seen quite a variety of classrooms, students, families, teachers, buildings, professional developers, playgrounds, et cetera. As I prepare myself to embark on yet another journey, my fourth school site in as many years, I feel the same amount of measurable apprehension as I feel before every new experience.

For the first time, however, I will teach the same subject and grade levels as I did the previous year. This is exciting because I will actually be able to improve upon my practice by re-teaching curriculum I have previously taught. What is most exciting is the opportunity to work with a department rather than a grade-level team. I feel as though there us so much ahead of me, but of course, I have to prepare for the onslaught of students that will enter my classroom.

My room is ready and it looks great. It is the oldest room in which I've been. No classroom in which I've previously taught was older than three years. This classroom, however, is a bungalow and more importantly, it does not have air conditioning. Let me add: I will have no fewer than twenty-eight students - middle schoolers at that, in any classroom. With the impending Indian summer, I pray for the donation of a portable air conditioning unit.

Speaking of class size, no teacher is supposed to have more than 180 total students in middle or high school. This year, not including advisory, I will have around 170. This is about seventy more students than last year. As an English teacher, I will likely be MIA grading for a good portion of the year.

As I plan the year ahead, I feel the nerves. Like the students, I wonder what everyone will be like, how all will get along, and what the perfect back to school outfit will be. Will they like me? Will the students judge me? Will they think I'm - shall I say it? Cool? Then I think: I don't care. I have control, I am the man, and I am master and commander, ruling over my own domain.

I look forward to the diversity of students, the inspiring of excellence, and personal growth over the next year. I finally decided to share my experiences as a teacher by blogging because, let's face it, being an educator is actually rather entertaining. Why not share?