The Adverse Affects of Teaching

I suppose simply reading my blog from a few weeks ago would tell you (you know, the one in which it was snowing out, on May 1, and I was out of my mind), but teaching is an exhausting and incredibly stressful job. Even on the last day of school this past Friday, as I was checking out and heading home for the summer, there was drama. Some woman had brought her kid to school (he was in my class, by the way...and had NOT been to school for over a WEEK), marched up the stairs to the lockers without checking in at the office, and when she found his locker empty, began DUMPING OUT ALL THE GARBAGE CANS ON THE SECOND FLOOR. You see, his personal books were gone. So, she thought it was acceptable to dump all the garbage on the floor, searching for the books. She then attempted to take similar books from the school library, because that would be "fair." Yeah. I got the hell out of there and let the principal deal with it; there's a reason they pay them the big bucks. That crazy woman was the reason.

So anyway, any stress-related ailments that I have been experiencing usually go away during the first week of summer vacation. Not this time. Right now, I am experiencing the following:

• I have a horrible rash of acne on my chin
• Back pain
• Can't sleep
• Asthma attacks
• My 3rd period in 6 weeks
• Fatigue (no wonder on this one...I can't sleep)

Granted, school just ended 4 days ago. But this kind of stress-related crap has got to stop. I've got a lot of work to do this summer. I suppose this stuff won't stop me from gardening, writing curriculum and writing my book; I'll just be ugly and coughing while I participate in those activities. I would just like to experience some normal health, for once.

2:30am. Time to get up.

I can't go into details, but I was awakened at 2:30am, and I've been up since.

No, it was not for any type of sexy reason.

Anyway, I was too awake to fall back asleep, so I stayed up. I made coffee at 4:15am. Had some bread with butter and some coffee. Fired up the lappy and did some ebay work, and other internet stuff. Paid a bill.

And all of a sudden, I realized that THE SUN WAS COMING UP. It wasn't even 5am, and I could see it getting lighter outside. And then I heard the birds.

THE BIRDS.

How the hell do I sleep through that shit on a daily basis? Those birds are loud as hell! Tweet tweet fucking tweet. Man!


That's just my cranky, no-sleep talking. They actually sounded rather nice. Just startling how loud they were. It was also nice to feel cool air in the house. It's been so damned hot, and there I was, sitting in the cool air, listening to cheeping birds.

It was ok, I guess. I suppose there are worse ways to spend the 4am hour.

Sappy-Ass Shit

Man, I have become such a weepy fool.

The other day, I was so stressed out because of my superiors. I can't go into the details, because I might be filing a grievance because of it.

So I'm totally stressed out, and I want to get out of this situation, but feel helpless because the last time I tried to transfer the fools didn't even read my resumé. I felt trapped, disgusted, and hopeless.

And I'm sitting in my office, working on "writing up" some information about incidents that have happened. I'm doing this during lunch time. My best friend at work, S, is sitting with me, eating his cereal.

All of a sudden, he gets up and says, "Well, I'm going upstairs."

"No! Where are you going? Don't go!" I call after him.

"Well, I've asked you three questions, and you aren't answering me, and I don't even think you knew that I asked questions. You're just really into that stuff you're writing, and I don't see how I'm helping..."

"No! Please, don't go! You're helping just by being here..." and I motion with my hand for him to close the door, because all of a sudden, I'm crying.

S, being someone who actually cares about his friends, came back in and shut the door.

I just broke down. "Just having you in here is helping. I've been so lonely this year. I feel helpless and alone because of the shit that's happening. And you're my best friend here at work, and I hardly get to see you anymore, and..."

And I couldn't finish. I just cried.

And S. comforted me in the best possible way a person could. He said, "You're my best friend at work, too."

And up until that moment, I didn't know that. Because S. is everybody's friend. Everybody loves him. He makes everybody laugh. He gets along with everybody. He makes friends faster than anyone I've ever known.

But I didn't know I was his best friend at work, until that moment. I feel both proud and ashamed; I'm proud to be his friend, and also ashamed that I didn't know how he felt.

Furthermore, I'm ashamed to be posting such sappy-ass shit on my blog. What kind of fucking pity-party is this, anyway? I feel like everybody's lame-ass, charity case friend.

The Best I Can Do

The best I can do to stand this job is to torment others.

Like right now, for instance. My kiddos have extra time to complete an assignment, and they've been doing anything but work. So then they have "needs," (i.e. how to spell something, wanting to get out of class, needing not to work, but to do anything else) and want me to call on them.

So I sit here, with a big smile on my face, not calling on them.

They start to complain: "Miss, my arm hurts! ... Miss, aren't you going to call on me?"


Um............ no.

Can't sleep...must...play...with...lappy...

Yeah, I bought one. I love this thing more than life itself.

I cut my fingernails so they wouldn't click on the keyboard.

I loaded new software onto it, sitting next to it the whole time, reading the manual.

I ate dinner while surfing the net.

I love this thing!

Lappy Haiku:

I love my lappy.
It gives me intense pleasure
Not unlike a man.

Ha! I think that's pretty good. See? See how the lappy influences me? Poetry practially writes itself on this thing!

4 weeks, 4 fires

Yes, you read that right. We have had not one week go by of the past month that someone hasn't set a fire in our school.

Welcome to public schools, everyone! This is what no discipline or follow-through will get you!

After today's fire, a bunch of adults were huddled around the main office assistant's desk, looking at her computer screen. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were watching internet porn, they were so interested. Of course, they were looking at the playback of the fire incident. Yes, the children are so stupid that they will set a fire while on camera.

But I digress. While watching the video to see who the perp was, the assistant principal said, plain as day, in front of the office staff and several teachers, "It's the teachers' fault."


What the hell?


I hope this tells you a little something about what it's like to work in public schools. We as teachers wonder why the public at large has no respect for us? Well, why should we wonder? The administration of our building doesn't have any respect for us. The administration thinks that it is the teachers' fault that a child set a fire in the bathroom. How the hell did she come to that conclusion?

Well, the same way she comes to all conclusions; she doesn't want someone to blame her, so she blames the teachers, because we are easy targets. However, in this case, everyone is going to think she's a nutjob if she continues with her stance.

I know that she is afraid that someone is going to blame her. She won't hear it from me, but you all will hear this:

The administration has made their bed, and now they have to sleep in it.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, has been done to deter criminal behavior from the students, all year long. Students caught smoking pot on school grounds? They're here, in school. Maybe they were suspended for a couple of days. That's it. No ticket. No arrest. Nothing.

Oh, hey! Wanna set the school on fire? Go right ahead! We'll send you home for a couple of days, "...to think about what you did." While we're at it, why don't we give our puppies at home a treat when they shit on the carpet? Yeah, that'll teach 'em.

Which brings me back to the fires. Yes, 4 fires have been set in the past 4 weeks. Have the children been ticketed for arson? No, they have not. Have they been arrested? No, they have not. Have they received any consequences that show them that their pyromaniac tendencies won't be tolerated? No, they have not.

And here we sit. We, the teachers, are being blamed for a student setting a fire in a student lavatory.


Anybody wanna take bets on how long it will take before they get the whole school to burn down?

In stead

I was just typing a note to myself, and I used the term , "...in my stead."


So pretentious.

new t-shirts

Steve and I are going to have new t-shirts made. They will say:

"Suck it" means "yes."


How would we use such a t-shirt? A-like so:


Student: Mr. McGee, will you miss us over the summer?
Teacher: Suck it.


You see how easy? Now you try.



--groovygrrl, queen of fashion

Transfers

It's time for the annual "Transferring of the Teachers." This is different from the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain, because bulls don't have to do interviews.

The list came up on Friday. All of the teaching jobs that are available in the district were listed. I wonder which group of teachers was pissed off the most, you might ask? I'll answer: it appears that elementary level teachers are leaving their posts in droves. Of course, there are more elementary schools than middle or high schools, but damn! It sure looked like a lot of postings to me.

So I scribby-scrolled through the lists, and chose the jobs I wanted. You may recall that a) my health is suffering and b) "I can't take this crap much longer," has entered my vocabulary a bit too often, therefore c) I need to transfer. I got really picky, though. I applied for three jobs:

1. Language Arts teacher: Online High School
2. Language Arts teacher: CEC
3. Language Arts teacher, IB program: High School

Please note the first one: that's the one I really want. It is so different, so removed from teaching in a classroom as I know it, that I believe I will be energized and renewed by it. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it. And the more I think about it, the more benefits I see to teaching online:

• no sarcasm
• no cussing me out
• no setting the garbage can on fire
• no throwing spitwads, etc.
• no whining that I would be able to hear
• flexible scheduling
• snow day? no problem! I can still teach my class. Therefore, fewer sick days used up.
• wanna go to lunch? no problem! I can still teach my class.
• wanna blog? send email? chat? no problem!
  
• wanna sit and read a book that you want to teach? yes! do it! that's required!

I really, really, really want that job, but I'm trying not to want it too much, to avoid disappointment. Of course, I do want it too much, as evidenced by me using 3 "reallys."

The other jobs would be good, too. The CEC job would be good because it's college prep, and because the location is right along the Light Rail, so I wouldn't have to drive to work. Yay! Furthermore, the job description mentioned something about paying for mileage, which means I might be able to wring a bus pass out of them. Hmmm.

The third job would still be in a traditional high school, but it is in the International Baccalaureate (sp?) program, which translates into AP classes with a lot of rigor. Rrrrowwr.

So, here I sit, waiting for phone calls from principals for interviews. After 13 years of teaching, I still have that pang of worry, "Will they like me? Do they think I'm qualified?" Jesus H. Of course I'm qualified. If they don't like me, so what? They can suck it.

That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.


--groovygrrl, queen of job interviews

I may have figured it out.

The reason teaching is so difficult nowadays.

Today, during a class in which I am the extra teacher, the students were behaving like complete twits. In this case, the definition of "complete twit, " is "someone who spits gum in another person's hair."

This alone may be reason enough to quit teaching: I wouldn't have to deal with people spitting in other people's hair. But I digress.

I ask you this: Which is worse, the person who did the spitting, or the person who was spit upon, but refuses to tell me who did it? This is when I think I figured out the problem. Students nowadays have no self-respect.

If they did, they would immediately draw attention to the idiot who was destroying their work environment, and ask that the offender be removed. Don't tell me that you didn't do that in school. I know I did. If you were gutless back then too, then I guess I'm not talking to you.

I'm talking to those of you who would, in the same situation, at age 13, spin around and yell, "Knock it off, dipwad! Stop spitting gum in my hair! What kind of animal are you?" and then tell the teacher. No, that doesn't happen today. Today, the kids say, in a very transparent manner, "I don't know who did it, miss," as they cast their eyes to the left.

Bullshit you don't know. You know. They all know. But they won't say who did it. Why? Either they have no respect for me (abot 50% of them), and enjoy watching the spectacle of a ruined work period, or they have no respect for themselves ( the other 50%) and won't tell me who it is. Is it out of fear? Do they really fear retribution from a moron?

I don't care anymore. I don't care if they are afraid. The person spitting gum in their hair is a goddamned idiot, and so are they if they're too gutless to protest.

Idiot cowards.


That's why teaching in public schools is so hard nowadays. The students have no self-respect. They have no respect for their own education, as well. They have no idea that people around the world don't have the oppportunity to go to school, like they do. They don't care about people around the world. Why should they?

They don't even care that they have gum in their hair.



--groovygrrl, queen of quitting teaching

Proof That I'm Working Too Hard

This never happens to me.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my alarm clock. I thought to myself, "What the hell? Why did I set my alarm on a Saturday?" I got up, turned it off, used the toilet, and went back to bed.
It's a great pleasure to be able to sleep in on Saturdays. My daughter doesn't get up until long after I'm awake, so I usually have some time to myself. I slept in for a while, and woke up again, this time to no alarm, of course. I heard the dogs whining to go out, and I thought to myself, "Gotta let the dogs out." I thought about what I would make for breakfast. "Waffles. I think I'll have waffles this morning. Ooh! And we have bacon, too! That'll be nice."
I then began to plan my morning in my head. I would make some breakfast. I would read the paper. I would play with my girl. Then, all of a sudden, I heard her voice. "Is she awake already?" I thought. I rolled over and turned on the monitor. Yep, there she was, talking to her toys. What a sweetie.
Streeeetch! I raised my arms up and had a good stretch. I then reached up and scratched my head. "Hmm, " I thought to myself, "My hair needs washing. I thought I was going to wash it on

Fffffffffffffrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidaaaaaaaaay?
Holy shit!"

And, yes, you guessed it, today is NOT Saturday, but Friday. I was supposed to be at school 45 minutes previous to this. My students were already sitting in class, and I was at home, in bed.


Um......yeah, I think I'm working a little too hard, when I wake up and honestly believe that it's Saturday, when it's not.


Good lord.






--groovygrrl, queen of tardiness for no good reason

What I've got on my desk

The items on my desk include:

• a butter knife
• a purple marker
• a black ink pen
• my school keys
• an empty water bottle
• a bottle of hand lotion
• a package of pencils
• a package of pens
• a baggie of chocolate-covered almonds
• a pad of paper
• a pad of sticky notes
• my asthma inhaler
• two random sheets of paper
• a small pot of mints
• a paper-clip container
• some antibacterial hand gel
• some cologne I confiscated from a dork
• a heart-shaped Altoid tin, empty
• two photos: my baby, and my whole family
• my phone
• my computer, keyboard, and mouse.

I am so damned bored.



--groovygrrl, queen of zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Tanned, Rested, and Ready

Ok, so I'm not tanned.

The past month has been a whirlwind of activity, as is usual, according to my previous posts. However, none of the excitement happened while I was in school:

On December 1, my husband went in for hernia surgery. That night, he vomited, and told his caretakers that he, "felt a pop." Well, they didn't check into it, and sent him home the next day anyway. That evening, he couldn't even lift his head. I had to lift a 350-pound man out of bed by myself. He was in agony all night, and in the morning, vomited again. When this happend, he bled out through his incision, which freaked me out, and his pain increased.

I got someone to watch our baby, and took him to the emergency room. They did a CT scan, and determined that he had popped all of the stitches that were made in his abdominal wall. They surmised that it had happened while he was still in the hospital that first night. (He felt a pop, remember?) I was going out of my mind by that point, angry that they had sent him home, and now he was back in the emergency room, etc. etc. I called for the patient advocate, and told her my story.

He had to go in for emergency surgery that day, right there, from the emergency room to surgery prep. He had two invasive surgeries within 72 hours.

Long story very short (I could go on for days, but I can't afford the energy loss right now), we did not have to pay the hospital bill for the second visit, because they agreed (of course they agreed, they knew they were negligent) that he should not have been sent home the first time.

My husband is recovering slowly. He is almost completely independent; he is restricted fromm lifting heavy objects, and that's it. I'm so grateful.

Because of all this, I was home for all of December. I had planned on taking December 1-3 off, anyway, but because of his second surgery, and because I made them keep him in the hospital the second time around, I had to take December 6-17 off. I had the sick days. That's what they're for, right? Someone had to watch the baby, anyway. He couldn't lift her. About the thrid and fourth weeks of December, I was able to relax. I did some reading, went to the library, visited with some friends. It was good for a while.

And now, I'm back at school. I have declared the nightmare to be over, and things are looking up. I have been writing my book, and I have been scheduling time for some art projects, etc. I'm trying to find some fun in every day. It's difficult at this job, but I manage.

The most difficult part of my day is keeping my spirits up. It's very difficult to be a teacher. The children are never the problem for me; it is always the bullshit paperwork and politics that drive me nuts. Every year I am being asked to do more and more layers of paperwork, and that takes me away from time with students. Nuts, nuts, nuts.

So I do small things to lift my spirits, like wearing my hair in pigtails every Friday, and wearing old-school Converse All-Stars (red, leather, low-tops). I make the kids dance the hokey-pokey when they're losing steam. I try to streamline my paperwork so I can spend time with the kiddos.

I hope everyone reading this can make a choice today that will make your life better. I am writing a book that will sell thousands of copies and make me a lot of money. What are you going to do to make this year incredible?



--groovygrrl, queen of inspiration

Unreal

it's all the same

Okay, so I haven't posted in almost a month. I was thinking it was about time that I gave y'all an update. (for "y'all" you should read "nobody"...who the hell reads my shit?)

I just read my last post, wondering how long it's been. It may as well have been yesterday. All I have to say is the same old shit. I am just becoming more and more exhausted as each day passes. Last week, I had to take a day off from work, simply because I couldn't hold my head up anymore. Seriously. I called in while in a prone position; it was all I could manage.

And today, I got my period. I know, I know, nobody wants to hear about that, but it's important because I just had one 14 days ago. For those of you who are men or are completely on drugs, that's 2 whole weeks too early. What the hell?

I'm worried about my husband's surgery, which they can't seem to schedule. I think the doctors would rather he died, because it would free up their schedule. He also went to a sleep apnea clinic the other day. I'm worried about his health, and who is going to watch our baby while he is recovering. I found someone for one week, but that's it, and that's all we can afford, anyway.

Furthermore, I am being worked to death at school. I take every planning period and lunch period to write IEPs and deal with other paperwork. Every year, more and more layers of paperwork crap are piled on us. I am running from the minute I get there until the minute I leave.

Big surprise I'm exhausted.

How is it possible, then, that I have nothing to show for all of this work?

--groovygrrl, queen of nothing

Exhausting jobs.

or "Why The Hell Are We So Tired?

I've been getting enough sleep. I sleep like the dead! It's not that.

I've been eating a balanced diet. In fact, I've changed my diet to be healthier. It's not that.

I've been walking 2.5 miles, at least 5 days per week. That's only good for energy and stamina, right? So it's not that.

It's gotta be the teaching, man. It's gotta be the teaching.

Public school teaching is exhausting. I am going, going, going, every minute of every day. I am typing this at home, in the evening, before collapsing in bed. I am impressed that my fingers can move enough to type this. Voice recognition software is looking pretty good right now.

Steve and I were talking today about our exhaustion. He's exhausted, too, and he teaches at the same school as I do. We compared the factors I listed above, and came to the conlusion that we work our asses off. For some reason, while we're in it, it doesn't feel like that. But once we sit our asses down to relax, we want to fall asleep, immediately! What the hell?

We're all glad that we have two days off next week. "Fall Break," they call it. I think it should be called "October Mental Health Break for Teachers."

We might go bowling.

--groovygrrl, queen of finally posting, once

It passed.

But we won't see any increase until our paycheck at the end of October. Probably. *sigh*

--groovygrrl, queen of crap salary

3 grand

...if it passes.

I have voted FOR the proposed salary agreement for Big School District. Yes, it sucks that we did not get a raise last year. Yes, it sucks that the district did not automatically make up the difference for increased insurance costs. Yeah, it sucks that we had to rally with signs and snarkiness to get the district to notice that, yes, teachers actually EXIST, and teachers actually do have bills to pay and families to feed, and that we are NOT volunteers.

Whatever.


In any case, I looked at the proposed salary schedule. Including the increase in pay and the fact that we get a step raise, I should receive $3,000 more per year. I've got to take it. I can't turn that down. It will be about $180.00 per month more, after taxes, etc. That goes a long way toward paying for our living expenses every month. At this point, we are going into debt a small amount each month.

TEACHING PAY SUCKS!

I would like some responses to this one. I want to hear from someone who has been working in the same career for 12 years, AND who has 84 graduate credit hours (a Master's degree is included). I want to know what you get paid.


--groovygrrl, queen of financial creativity

Steve's contribution

oh, it's a good one.

My friend Steve sent me an email, giving details about the place where he will be attending a conference today. As the "Literacy Coach" for our school, he has to attend all sorts of meetings. To that, I say, "Ha-ha!"

So, he knows that I hate how Our School District has no money to pay us, but finds all sorts of money for irrelevant things. He therefore looked up a review of the inn where his conference will be held. Yes, the name of the place is, in fact, "The Lumber Baron." Yes, we both had pornographic thoughts when we saw this name. Yes, we joked about it heartily. Yes, you will read his email.........now.

i will be attending an ELA conference today at an establishment known as "the lumber baron." incredulous, i looked it up and saw this description:

DENVER'S MOST ROMANTIC INN.

i did further research and found this review of the most romantic bed & breakfast in denver:

Our formal, evening wedding was ruined by the lack of customer service at the Lumber Baron Inn. For starters, the Innkeeper was on vacation and left an incompetent replacement who demaded I remove the previous wedding's decorations. I had mistaken her for the cleaning staff, as she was dressed in shorts and a wrinkled short-sleeved shirt. No attempt was made to provide hand towels in the back garden after it rained lightly before the ceremony, and she spent most of the evening making personal calls from the back office or setting up for another event scheduled for the next morning. After discovering that the air conditioners in three of the five rooms were not working, the Innkeeper (with whom we spoke on the phone) did not apologize and made no suggestions of what to. In fact, he seemed annoyed that we disturbed him on his vacation. So, at 1:30am, we were searching the house for the circut breaker box. The replacement staff member locked up the house and left the property for the evening and the morning breakfast was inedible. We still have not received an apology from the Innkeeper for ruining our wedding day.

put that in your blog and smoke it.

~steve


Done and done, Steve. Thanks for your contribution. Don't forget your knee pads, today, at Denver's Most Romantic Inn, where teachers congregate for "educational purposes."

*snort*

--groovygrrl, queen of friendship

Got it!

I think I've finally got it...


It's been bugging the shit out of me. I've got this idea for a novel, an adolescent novel, the next Harry Potter really, if you want to know the truth, but for the life of me it wasn't working.

I mean, I had it, the idea, some of the story, a few characters, and then they started talking in my head even, but when I tried to write it down, it wouldn't work. It would be stilted, boring, annoying and cliche´d. It was awful.

Not totally awful, though. The kids liked it, last year. The intro was all wrong, and the protagonist shouldn't be a girl, he should be a boy;that way he can be more of an observer. All of the elements are falling into place.

Now, when am I going to write this down? It's just floating around in my head all the time.
--groovygrrl, queen of novel ideas

End of the first week

...and I've already been to a rally.

The rally was to support the mediation team for the teachers' union. The district wouldn't work anything out so that we could have a pay raise. We didn't get our raise last year, and it appeared as if we wouldn't get one this year, either. I just read on a press release from the district that "mediation is over," so something has happened. Is it good? Is it bad? I don't know.

What I do know is I am on a personal boycott of extracurricular activities, meetings, etc. I will "work to the rule," and nothing more. If my work doesn't get done in 8 hours, then it doesn't get done. Not only did we not get a raise, but I am not paid equally for someone with my number of graduate credit hours.

For those of you who think I'm whiny, please realize that the demands being placed on public school teachers increase every year, while our compensation does not. The media derides public education, and everyone seems to have an opinion about our job, and how we should do it. However, few of these people have an idea of what it's like to teach in a public school. As it is right now, I have to work a part-time job (freelance teaching at the University) just so we don't have to go into debt every month.

Don't worry. I'm still working toward self-employment. I'm still writing and working on things that will give me my own raise. Nobody else is going to do it.

--groovygrrl, queen of malcontent