A spare minute

It's about time I get around to this. Unfortunately I only have 10 minutes....Dinner:Impossible starts at 9, and I must have that hour of tv if I have any hope of shutting of my mind before bed.

The last few weeks have passed in somewhat of a hurricane fashion. I've felt like I've been on the go a lot. It has been quite the adjustment and a lot has happened. Let me try and do what I can to keep this brief and to the point.

What the past month has taught me:

• Living in the same town as where you teach has its perks. It takes 4 and a half minutes to reach school and if I really need to escape during noon hour, the option is there.
• Living in the same town as where you teach has its downfalls. I visit my classroom 7 days a week and can't seem to escape the world of school. When I think I've had enough I pass kids on the bike ride home and am forced to smile and pretend my day was just "awesome."
• Teaching is demanding. I demand a lot from myself. I feel under significant pressure.
• Spending the first three afternoons in 3-way conferences with students was a wonderful way to transition into the new school year.
• When I was in grade 8 I don't remember the boys being this lazy when it came to PE.
• Although I thought I was capable, I accepted the fact today that I am not capable of navigating my way through this new teaching position while taking 2 university courses and still managing to preserve my sanity. I feel relieved that I now dropped one.
• I miss my students from last year tremendously. They will never be replaced. No matter what people say, you can't find "those" kids in any school.
• I got to watch the Grunthal girls play volleyball this weekend. It was exactly what I needed.
• Our dog got put to sleep. Although I haven't lived with her for years it makes me sad.

The start of a new week opens the door for more lessons to be taught and realizations to be had. Time to have at 'er.

I'm a slug.

The following passage is from the book I just finished, Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult. I am not always one to finish books, so that tells you that it must've been good. Being a teacher, as I read the passage I couldn't help but wonder how many kids have felt the same way? How many of those kids have put on a front, hid it all inside for so many years that it seems natural? I think we've all had days where we've been "there", but I'm certain "there" is where some people, and chances are students in my very own class, spend a majority of their lives.

"When I was little I used to pour salt on slugs. I liked watching them dissolve before my eyes. Cruelty is always sort of fun until you realize that something's getting hurt.
It would be one thing to be a loser if it meant no one paid attention to you, but in school, it means you're actively sought out. You're the slug, and they're holding all the salt. And they haven't developed a conscience.
There's a word we learned in social studies: schadenfreude. It's when you enjoy watching someone else suffer. The real question, though, is why? I think part of it is just self-preservation. And part of it is because a group always feels more like a group when it's banded together against an enemy. It doesn't matter if that enemy has never done anything to hurt you - you just have to pretend you hate someone even more than you hate yourself.
You know why salt works on slugs? Because it dissolves in the water that's part of a slug's skin, so the water inside its body starts to flow out. The slug dehydrates. This works with snails, too. And with leeches. And with people like me.
With any creature, really, too thin-skinned to stand up for itself."

As a new school year approaches I'll strive to be more cognicent of the slugs and those who hold the salt. Sometimes the ELA, math, and science lessons will take the back seat. What's truly important is for those who hold the salt to accept themselves and feel less inclined to use it. As for the slugs, they need to be given the opportunity to be accepted, thicken their skin, and gain the confidence needed to stand up for themselves, believing in what they truly represent.