from the secret journal that travels with me
Congratulations - she seems to have batted the cycle. Five days; five schedule changes, each adding more lessons onto my load. I'm starting to feel like I should prepare a lesson for each period, just in case she announces another change.
Quote of the day:
"I love the poem you had in this lesson. That was part of the problem last time; they didn't like your folktales. It's amazing what a difference using solid classics makes."
Wow. Never have I felt the sting of such a backhanded compliment. Now that's what I call creatively destructive criticism. Imagine saying something like that when a girl - who was threatened with failure a few months ago - has just come glowing and confident from a successful class. It's like I can't succeed but she wants a piece of the credit.
And for the record, I had problems with maintaining order in Social Studies, not in English. And even then, if I had been offered proper support in the classroom it would not have become a make-or-break issue. I hate this seesawing approval/poisonous disapproval. It will feel sooo good when it's over.
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I knew there was a reason why I didn't want to go back to school.
Second crying fit today, unfortunately in the middle of the day. There was a comment that cut straight to the bone, a compliment so left-handed that I was gasping for breath at the end of it. I took off for awhile then, just headed into town for the hour before my next class because I couldn't bear to be in the school any longer. It was an absolutely gorgeous day and I wandered to & fro until I found a pay phone. Called home, poured my heart out to the Boy, cried in the spring breeze, felt better and went back to work. The afternoon wasn't great, but what can I really expect when the kids reasonably expect a free period and instead get me delivering a lesson. They're unhappy, I'm unhappy, and we both contrive to make each other miserable for 45 minutes. And I'm looking forward to another lovely session tomorrow.
Just gotta think about how sweet it'll feel on April 27th, when I file my remaining handouts under R for Arrivaderci.
"Go home, children."
- miss hoover
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(this originally appeared elsewhere)
In honour of Dirk's birthday, I told my homeroom about April Genius Day and asked them what pranks they could pull to make someone look like a genius rather than a fool.
"Put a big white fro on their head like einstein?"
"Make a stack of books beside them?"
"Say 'you're smart!' and run away?"
The whole thing kind of baffled them...it's interesting how little we think about making those around us look smart.
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4 years ago today: the day the boy tried (unsuccessfully) to kiss me for the first time
