Preparing for Unemployment

So this year, my boss decided that instead of him writing a performance evaluation on each of us teachers, we should write it ourselves. In essence, the one opportunity I have to be given criticism that could be helpful to me, is now gone. Here is the evaluation I wrote on myself: (By the way, does anyone have any leads on open positions for smart-ass middle school teachers?)

Observation of Classroom Practice (required annually): I think I am a pretty spectacular teacher. I work hard to make sure that I am never neglecting math nor drama. That being said, I feel that it is not possible to split me in half and expect an outcome to be wholly spectacular. People tell me I am doing well in two departments, but the truth is that if I was able to teach only one subject, the outcome would be nothing less than miraculous.  I carry a Wonder Woman backpack for a reason. My goal in life is to improve kids’ lives, whether it be through helping them discover a talent they never knew they had or helping them discover the ability to conquer the fear of their most terrified subject. I know I rock, but I wish I could be given the chance to rock a little harder.

Kids need electives, they need help in math. Kids also need teachers who are getting enough sleep and have the opportunity to properly prepare for lessons, evaluate their work and respond to their concerns.  So why aren’t they getting this? If the answer is “budget,” I am going to lose it. I am going to finally fall all the way off my rocker. Most of us know what is best for kids: tons of good teachers and small enough classes so that kids get the opportunity to interact with those professionals. Instead, they get computers. Well, I’m sorry. If computers could teach kids then we’d all be unemployed.

            I feel this rant would end nicely with a metaphor. Being so involved in dramatic arts, I am a proficient juggler. This metaphor compares teaching to juggling. When a person begins to juggle, they are given scarves. Scarves stay afloat longer and are easy to grasp. The juggler then moves onto balls and pins. Once the juggler proves to be an expert, she is then told to juggle fire, chainsaws and other dangerous objects. An amazing juggler can throw and catch many different and terrifying objects at once, in a delicate, mid-air ballet. The juggler can only do this for so long before they reach exhaustion. Eventually, a chainsaw will fall and the juggler’s career (and femoral artery) will be cut short.

A Case of Synnonym Confusion

The counselors at my school are putting together a focus group of students to address some middle school issue or other. They sent around a questionnaire asking students if they would be interested in joining said focus group.

One of my students became immediately terrified and said "Why would we want to join one of those? Isn't that what Hitler did to the Jews?"

No, son. Those are called concentration camps.

The good news is I snapped.

Dead dads and shitty schedules made me very, very tired. Maybe it was just the dead dad that made my work life seem so shitty, but whatever caused it, I've been a terrible teacher for an entire semester. Teaching without passion is like drinking without getting drunk. There's just no point.

I would like to announce that the despression cloud has lifted. In a glorious display of sarcasm, anger and self-righteousness, my desire to live passionately returned. Last Friday I walked into my boss' office and (very loudly) announced that he had allowed his ego to superceed what was best for kids. I also added that his sloppy handling of school operations was not only unfair to students, but illegal. After my berrating monologue directed at my seated boss, I took a deep breath, felt the sweat that had pooled in various areas of my body and prepared to be told to quietly return to my room and be a team player. Instead, a look of panic fell upon is face and he... apologized.

I feel so alive.