Year: 2015
I’ve been Captained, and I’m a Puddle of Happiness
Posted onThere’s something completely irresolute about finals week; as such, unless explicitly directed, I avoid giving final exams. Instead, I like to leave my students thinking about the final chapter of their high school career with something less final and more… open-ended, more upbeat. I want my students to leave my literature class thinking about morals and the self–because, at least for me, that’s what literature actually is–words that express morals and self, and those concepts can’t really be tested by an end of year exam.
To my Graduating Seniors of 2015
Posted onDear Seniors of 2015,
I need to make a tiny confession. You were already winners before the contest began, and you’ll continue to be winners long after it’s over.
I need to make another confession: I’ve been manipulating you to think that I am “The Keeper of the Words.” And yet, I struggle too–just like you–when faced with a prompt. And today, the cursor blinks patronizingly as I try to answer the prompt instructing me that somehow I must “Say Goodbye.”
I’m older than you, and by extension “wiser,” and I’ve got your captive attention for probably eight more seconds, so allow me a moment to share the thesis that you, your wisdom, and the time we have shared together has helped me to articulate.
Resigned.
Posted onToday I submitted my official letter of resignation from Timpview High School, but I forgot to sign it. I marched down to the main office, letter folded crisply, neatly–decisively. I handed over my letter to Michelle, the kindly office secretary, with resolve and explained that it hadn’t been an easy choice, “but I really can’t pass an opportunity like this up.”
A Fair and Balanced Account of Valentine’s Day as a Holiday.
Posted onYesterday my Facebook feed was abuzz with adorableness on Valentine’s–people publicly declaring their love and celebrating their flowers. As a manifestation of how old and mature I’m becoming, many of my friends posted pictures of their new Valentine’s–little babies covered with smooches, or pregnancy announcements clad in pink and red.
And honestly, it truly was adorable. I enjoyed it. I clicked the like button many times! I was happy it was Valentine’s Day!
But I was also a little bit cognizant of how much I would have hated my Newsfeed on Valentine’s Day five years ago–in the most cliche way of course. And though it was cliche and perhaps unnecessarily bitter, I don’t want to delegitimize the loneliness one single girl can internalize while scrolling through a Facebook Feed Full of Love.
So, remembering my former self, I decided to chronicle my 2015 Valentine’s Day here, where people actually need to CLICK to see, to choose to imbibe this particular love potion.
There’ll Be Days Like This, My Momma Said
Posted onIt’s a snuggle with Hufflepuff sort of day… Ok every day is a snuggle with Hufflepuff sort of day, so it’s a cry into her quills sort of day. It’s not as comforting as I needed to be, but her quiet warmth in the presence of my inner turmoil is soothing at least.
Besides an above-average deluge of complaining from students, two students in particular said the meanest thing that has ever been said to be in the entire history of student saying mean things to teachers. One student was joking. The other was serious.
For several hours I was able to maintain the facade of hero teacher mode. Swift discipline, log notes, calls home, a mandatory apology note, even a profusion of love after the swift discipline to let them know that the offenders were forgivable. Teachers are impervious to meanness, after all.
But once the final bell rang, I caved and did something I’ve only done one other time in my teaching career–I meandered into my office, closed the door, and had myself a good cry with my back pressed up against the door. I let the tears spill from my eyes onto the gap of ankle between sock and shoe. I felt my warm tears turn cold on the lining of my sock and let sad wash over me. I leaned into the sad, and it leaned back. Me and the emotions, we propped each other up.
Lest I be accused of only publishing the good about my job and my life, let it be known some Momma somewhere said there’ll be days like this… and there ARE.
Today was a hang nail and a stubbed toe.
Today was a squished snail on the pavement or a beetle in your apple juice.
Today was burnt toast and soggy burritos.
But after a solid cry, a lot of Hufflepuff, a tiny nap, and The Shirelles on repeat, I’m ready to say a slightly puffy “Do your worst” to tomorrow. Maybe just sans one soggy burrito.