School dazed

I had a bad dream last night. I dreamed I was in school, in a classroom that was an amalgamation of the new classroom I am moving into for real, the old classroom that I moved out of in June, and what we used to call the “activity room” at the elementary school that I attended about a thousand years ago.

In my dream, I was trying to put all my teaching supplies away, in a room with far too little storage space (which is actually true: my new classroom has about one quarter of the shelf space that I used to have. This is most emphatically NOT good.). Kids kept coming into my room with science and socials projects, English and French and math assignments to do (again, this is actually a real part of my teaching job). They kept coming and coming, and all my tables and chairs and desks were full of kids and their stuff, and miraculously, more tables and desks kept appearing for them all. And the kids got more and more unruly, and I was less and less able to control them, and I just really wanted to put my own things away because it was only the first day of school anyway. I kept yelling at the kids, and trying to get them to leave, or at least settle down, but nothing worked. Then the bell rang and the kids left my room anyway, still noisy and poorly behaved. They actually laughed at me and my pathetic attempts to discipline them. In my dream, I burst into tears as I shut the door behind them.

Then I woke up. With a headache.

Yes, the new school year begins in 15 days. Do ya think I’m looking forward to it???

N/A

I went out for a drink after work today with a few of the Wimmin from Unbook Club. We haven’t gotten together for about three weeks, so there were lots of stories to tell and lots of laughter. There were even a few off-colour jokes – but I won’t go into those here!

My friend Laine (she of the lesbian theory) had a wonderful story about an incident in her classroom this week. She teaches older intermediate kids, and she noticed one of the girls in her class wearing a shirt emblazoned with “TNA”. Now those of us in the know realize that this is a currently popular clothing brand from here on the West Coast of Canada. I myself have a purse and a couple of tank tops from TNA but most of their stuff is designed for trendy teenagers and twenty-somethings. (So I’m just an immature 16-year-old wannabe?)

Anyway, Laine sees this tee-shirt and finds it slightly off-putting. She is a big believer in empowering kids, particularly girls, and is constantly trying to raise their awareness about the sexism that surrounds them and that they seem to accept so unquestioningly. So Laine asks the kid if she know what “TNA” stands for.

The girl does not.

So Laine writes “TNA” on the board of her classroom and asks everybody, “Does anybody know what this acronym stands for?”

Not one kid raises their hand. Laine thinks that a couple of kids do know, however, just by the look on their faces, but she doesn’t want to embarrass anybody.

Then one boy raises his hand. Laine looks at him and thinks, There’s no way this kid knows what that means. He’s just not that kind of kid – he’s too innocent! Still, he’s got his hand up and is willing to answer her question, so she lets him.

“Well, I’m not sure about the T,” the boy begins earnestly, “but I know that the NA means Not Applicable”.

Yes dear, this is totally Not Applicable to you, bless your little heart.

She works hard for the money

Apparently I’m doing it all wrong.  This work thing, I mean.  Teaching.  I love the job, which explains why I have been doing it for 28 years now.  But I haven’t quite got it right, it seems.

It has come to my attention that the vast majority of teachers have second jobs.  Most of us tutor privately in the evenings or on the weekends throughout the school year.  Many have summer employment in places like offices or banks or restaurants (leftovers from our student days, I expect), although I think this is less common than it used to be now that we have the option of having our salary paid out over 12 months rather than the 10 months that we actually work.

I have bucked this trend entirely.  I have never had a second job.  In fact, the first time I was asked by a friend’s mother what job I did during the summer, I was quite appalled.  That’s my vacation time, I told her, and who would work during their vacation?  Well, an awful lot of teachers, that’s who.

It’s not that we’re not well-paid.  I think my salary is a pretty good one, considering I have five years of university education.  Of course, some would argue that teachers should be paid more because we have such a heavy responsibility in forming young minds for the future.  While I agree with that as a concept, I also understand that there’s only so many tax dollars to go around, and in the grand scheme of things, I feel that I get my adequate share.

So what is it that makes teachers work a second job after school or in the summer?  I truly don’t know, because I’ve never been tempted to do it.  I’ve been asked to tutor, but I’ve always declined.  I’m just not interested.  I guess even the money is not a huge lure for me – and believe me, there is good money to be made in private tutoring!  Particularly in my speciality, which is French Immersion.  As difficult as it is for school boards to find French Immersion teachers, it is even more difficult for parents to find competent French tutors, and almost all my fellow French Immersion colleagues are cashing in on this gravy train.

I suppose I just like my private time.  Maybe I’m lazy.  Or perhaps I’m such a superior manager of my money that I don’t need any extra $$$.  (Yeah, that last one!) 

But now I’m starting to wonder about the whole idea of second jobs.  Even Porsche Guy has just got himself a casual weekend job to supplement his regular weekday gig.  Was there a memo about second jobs that I missed?  Did I delete that email?  Or do I simply not have the second-job gene?  Am I defective??

Nahh – just a superior manager of money.  That must be it.

Flood

I was at work today, running around doing some of the organizing that teachers do at the beginning of the school year.  I had books to categorize and put away, files to look up, reports to write, a staffroom dishwasher to load up with soap and switch on, recycling bags to find, colleagues to connect with, and even some kids to see.  I’m sure you get the picture.  I was busy.  I also had to go to the bathroom.

So off I trotted, but I didn’t head to the women’s bathroom in the staffroom.  I went to the unisex bathroom near our medical room because it’s closer to my classroom.  It’s used by our physically handicapped kids, but mostly by many staff members because of its location. (Our staff room is a bit off the beaten track when you really have to go.)

In I went, peed with relief, flushed.  Then I noticed that the water level in the toilet was going UP, not down. I frantically searched for the water shutoff valve – which didn’t appear to exist.  Naturally, a flood ensued. I could only watch.  What to do?!?

What does one do when one needs help in a school?  One runs to the secretary, of course.  I quickly explained to her what happened, and her response was a sigh and the word “Shit!”

“No, not really,” I hastened to reply.  ”I only peed.”