Friday, March 3, 1995
This morning at ten-forty-eight, my day and my week turned around. After asking Bubba if he had talked to Gump, between first and second periods--he hadn’t but the stuff was on the "top of his desk"--and feeling for certain that the administration was doing nothing; after sending Jon to the office with a referral for insolence and failure to do the assigned task, with a note attached that he was one of the four "fighters"--only to have Gump show up at my door later in the period, knowing nothing of the second fight but saying that he remembered taking care of the first two; after making sure that second period knew I was fully and completely in charge--by announcing the sanctions for the class (no food, no drink, no gum, no pencils, no leaving seats, no writer’s workshop, new grammar texts for daily exercises)--and settling in for a two week probationary period of "drill and kill"; after all this grinding me down even further, second period ended and before the five minute passing period before third period was over, four different students from the English 4/4H class had pulled me aside to tell me that they had received their acceptance letters from UCSB.
Their smiles, the fire in their eyes, their enthusiasm psyched me up again.
I had mentioned to them yesterday that I was feeling really down about teaching, even that I had had a job interview the night before. One student even asked sheepishly if I would be around to the end of the year. The question touched me. So after the short opening segment of silent sustained reading (of novels and plays from a list that should help prepare them for the A.P. exam), I brought them to a stopping point.
"Guys," I started, "a couple of things before the Scottish play." I launched into quick lesson/spiel on the UCLA style sheet requirements and how to format their research papers. Then I began my real point. "A couple of you have voiced a little concern about my... my career...philosophy." I smiled. "Don’t worry. I’m still here. Until the end of the year at least. Might even be here next year. Who knows?
"What you’ve got to understand is that no matter how much you love your job, no matter what your job is, you’re going to go through times when you hate it, when you think it sucks."
They laughed a little at this.
"But it passes. This past week has been rough, the worst I’ve ever had. The closest I’ve ever come to something like this was during my first year here. I was ready to say ‘See ya," ready to pack it in. I remember nights when I’d be curled up on the bathroom floor, fetal position, sobbing."
Their faces turned from smiles to...I don’t know what I’d call it. Discomfort? Yeah, probably. At what I was letting them in on, as if teachers should be infallible, nonhuman, above it all.
"I remember telling Lisa, ‘I gotta get out of this. I just can’t do this anymore. I hate this.’ And then two weeks later, it passed. And I loved teaching again. I don’t know what did it. Maybe it was Drama. I don’t know. Maybe because I started writing again. I only know it happened. And two weeks from now, all this could pass, too.
"But what you’ve got to know is that as bad as this week has been, right now, this moment, is the best I’ve had all week. Maybe all year. And you guys are the reason why. I mean, this is the time of year that can turn it all around. Because in the last fifteen minutes, four of you just came up to tell me that you’ve been accepted to college... college? Bullshit. UNIVERSITY."
They laughed again at my momentary lapse into profanity.
"And that means everything. I know I can’t take credit for your being accepted to universities. But I sure as hell can feel proud that I was around when it happened. And it feels good."
They smiled up at me. And it did feel good. I meant every word of it, even the stuff about the possibility of a next year. It felt very good, indeed.
Then we launched into a pretty solid reading and discussion of Macbeth. Thinking back on it now, it brings back memories of "A Night with the Bard" back at PeeVee, of other bright shining moments.
And even though I learned later in the day that the two fist fighters from second period were supposed to be out of my class yesterday (and in "In-House" suspension, giving my class the impression of some kind of consequences for actions), and that since the administration obviously cannot control discipline on this campus (because I’m supposed to send up the two students Monday so Gump can "take care of them")--even beyond all that, I walked away from campus today not feeling too bad at all.
I had had a couple of good moments of school today.
And Kyle took his first little steps last night (at eight and a half months...like I’m not proud).
And tomorrow I turn thirty-two.
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