Connections

Today was the last day of school. I always feel a little empty around this time. I couldn't wait for it to be over, and now, I'm actually going to miss the kids. Until this year, I hadn't worked with teenagers for a very long time. It was quite a challenge. I learned so much about myself this year. I've uncovered, yet, more of myself that needs a good tweak. For this, I have the kids to thank. Without having to deal with their issues, some of mine would not have made themselves more clearly known. For example, I learned that chaos scares the hell out of me. I do not like feeling out of control...the idea of control being a whole other issue.

The most important thing I realized is, you don't have to be the perfect teacher, or the perfect student, to feel cared for and respected. Kids know when you care for them and when you're making an effort to connect. Here's something to illustrate what I mean. It happened just the other day. One of the kids and I were butting heads much of the year. Yet, we both kept trying to communicate with each other. Were the interactions perfect? No. They were, however, good enough, that on the second to the last day of school, when this kid went home ill, we hugged each other and he softly said, "It's been a good year." I can't describe the impact that interaction had on me. I will never forget it.

I realize that I have begun to build some new friendships. I've met some terrific people this year. I wanted to say awesome, but I hate that much over used word. However, with a respectful nod to the kids, who love the word, and because it's true, I'll rephrase... I met some awesome people this year. For that, I am truly thankful.

In a day or two, I'll start to feel like it's summer vacation, one I sorely need after the trials and tribulations of last summer (dramatic, aren't I?) For the moment, I'll allow myself to grieve for another school year gone by, and another group of kids I'll no longer see everyday. I'm sure the sadness will abate the first time I hear, "Hey, B!" as I'm strolling through the aisles of Wal-Mart.

I wish the kids, as well as my friends and colleagues, a great summer!

Fringe

I found out what my teaching assignment will be for next year - special ed - grades four, five, and six. I'm OK with that. This year, I taught eighth grade reading, actually, it was literature. I was hired to help out with the gigantic eighth grade class...too many kids, not enough teachers. I knew it was a temporary position. I'm OK with that, too.

I've never been a regular classroom teacher until this year. I was a special ed teacher for thirteen years and a Title 1 reading teacher for nine years. I liked the reading job the best. My current district was hoping to have a full time literacy opening next year, but, alas, funds won't allow for it.

I was torn between wanting the literacy job and wanting a room with a door. I really do not like the pod set up. It's like teaching in a fishbowl condo. There are five rooms along the edges of a common area. The rooms all have floor to ceiling sliding glass doors. As if that weren't bad enough, the doors are designed not to close all the way. So, there is a four foot, open entrance leading to each classroom. I know - it's all the rage...middle school philosophy and all. I hate that set up. The kids are always distracted by what's going on in the other classes, as well as what's going on in the pod. You can hear everything everyone says. You can see everything everyone does. By the way, I hate the word pod. It's creepy. It's reminiscent of that futuristic old horror movie where everyone was taken over by aliens. Whales live in pods. For them, it's a good thing, as Martha Stewart would say. Not so much for eighth graders.

Until this year, I'd always led a rather autonomous existence in the schools in which I've worked. This year, I was entrenched in the eighth grade pod. The other teachers were very helpful to me, the newcomer. I appreciate their efforts. The whole set up is just not me. All the while I was asking the universe for the literacy position, I was also asking for a door. The two don't jive in this situation. The room with the door won out.

I'll be back to setting up my own program. I like having some freedom within the institution that is a public school. It's hard to find. Freedom is not a top priority in a building housing 700 kids for eight hours a day.

My new room is smaller. That's fine. I'll be back to working with smaller groups of kids and, hopefully, feeling like I'm making some kind of a difference for more of them. It's almost impossible to give individual help to a kid when there are twenty plus others also wanting your attention.

My new room will not be in a pod. It will be adjacent to a pod...on the fringe, you might say. Ah, back where I belong.