A wonderful, awesome, empowering, very good day

This kind of day is altogether different from a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

And, truth be told, I don't often get them. Between perimenopause and mood disorder, I feel like most days I'm at 40% "meh" and 60% "fuck this."  

For 4.5 years, I've been at a local high school working with credit recovery students and most of the time, I feel like I'm sticking bandaids on carotid hemorrhages. Foster situations, sky-high absentee rates, high-as-a-kite glazed eyes, lack of motivation, non-native English speaking students who are trying to get through chemistry, reading and math levels lower than what I probably scored in third grade--it's not a place where students feel like masters of their destinies. 

At worst, it gives rings of hell. At best, purgatory. 

Yet I like being there because I do form relationships with students, which is vastly different from a normal substitute teacher situation. Some kids I have shephered since freshman year. One boy stops to chat--he is now a senior---and it will be good to see him cross the finish line in a few months. 

And it is only two days a week so I have breathing room in between. 

Still, many days feel Sisyphean. 

But not Thursday of this week. 

Because on Thursday, two sisters---one of whom never shows and the other who has been sleeping in credit recovery class---showed up after I called and left a message with their mom about not wanting them to fall behind. And both girls were ready to talk to me and ask for help. 

And on Thursday, a teacher I spoke to before school asked if I worked with C, and when I said yes, we came up with a plan for me to help C finish some work so she could pass English from last semester. In class, C did the work eagerly, and it felt like VICTORY. 

Then D, who is real hit or miss on feeling motivated, said, after I told him I would work with him on makeup English work for the aforementioned teacher if he wanted to, "I've got my English work" as I started to walk away. So he knocked out that assignment. 

And W, a mid-year graduate whose completion was delayed because he was shot, worked with me all day to wrap up his stuff so that he can get his diploma. 

Thursday felt like 100% springtime ephemerals blooming, limoncello on Capri, and the perfect light nap on my favorite couch all rolled into one. 

Second-guessing life choices...sort of/not really

It's that time of year again--the time when teachers post their "back-to-school" photos or comments stating that this is their 18th year in the classroom or their 12th year at School X and 24th year teaching in general.

This is also the time of year when I think to myself, "This MIGHT HAVE BEEN my ____ year."

[For the record, had I not taken an extended break from full-time work, I would be starting my 23rd year.]

Mostly, seeing these posts makes me feel bad because it means that in 4 years I could RETIRE from teaching, and that probably isn't the best attitude to have, especially since I haven't worked full-time as a teacher in 19 years. The only reason I have regret is because I would want to be almost done with a job that I haven't wanted to do full-time in the first place. 

And this just seems....dumb (in addition to confusing). 

So it is also at this time of year when I have to do what a lot of people do: I have to give myself a good talking to in response to stuff I see on social media. 

The talking to goes like this:

First, you didn't want to try to be the mom you wanted to be and the teacher you wanted to be because you felt pretty certain it would drive you crazy to not give yourself fully to either one. That is water LONG under the bridge so would you puhlease get over it. 

Second, you created this weird life of sorta teaching, sorta writing, sorta editing and have a bunch of hobbies and interests and you would have to give ALL of that up if you went back full-time. You spent time with your kids while they were growing up, and now you're spending time with your parents who are growing old. 

[To soothe your ego, here is a reminder of the things you've done: 13 years as a freelance writer, 11 years at the cottage school, 7 years as a substitute teacher, edited several books for people who have been published, editor at online literary magazine, soon-to-be published in an anthology. There do you feel better now?]

Third, you ABHOR meetings. The best part of the teaching you do is that you can avoid these. Same with your writing work. Minimal meetings is key. 

After the lecture I feel better and am able to go about my life doing what I have chosen to do. 

Until next August when we do this again.

I'm the teacher with the complaints

I have been at the cottage school for a decade, and sometimes I'm surprised that they've kept me around as long as they have since I am the one whose classes parents seem to have the most issues with. 

My high school classes, really.

And it's the texts I select for students to read.

I love teaching the classics but I have tried to add a little bit more modern classics to my list over the years because classic literature can be really hard for students to get, especially those who don't have the weird love of English that I do. 

For a lot of students, Wuthering Heights (1847), Great Expectations (1860),  Pride and Prejudice (1813), and anything Shakespeare is utter torture. 

So this year I am teaching Rebecca by Daphe Du Maurier (1938). Several years ago, I started teaching   The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien (1990), A Raisin in the Sun (1959), and Long Day's Journey Into Night (1939-1941). 

Because I can potentially teach the same student all four years of high school, I have to rotate books so as not to repeat. After a several years hiatus, I am teaching The Things They Carried again. 

This is a book about the Vietnam War. About young men (in their 20s) in the Vietnam War. Young men, in general, think about sex. And war is about killing and death and raping and destroying and dying. All unpleasant topics. 

(It is at this point that I like to mention that all of these things--sex, rape, war, killing, dying--are also in the Bible. Like 2 Samuel 13:1-39.)

Some parents homeschool because their kids have food allergies or because their kids are involved in activities that require more flexibility than what traditional school gives. Some parents homeschool because their kids have had socially unpleasant traditional school experiences. Some parents homeschool because they want more control over what their kids learn. Probably some homeschoolers are a combination of these. 

It was due to this last group that we determined, a couple years after I began teaching, that we needed to add a disclaimer to my English classes to warn parents that there is often content that they may find troubling and that they should review the books in advance (like before registering for my classes). The ones who complain are generally the ones who fail to do this.

While I personally think it is ridiculous to censor what kids read, especially once they reach high school, parents have the right to do whatever they want including marking out things from books or keeping certain books from their kids. However, they would save themselves a lot of headache (and me too) if they would check out the books in advance. Or if they are so concerned, read the books with their kids and have whatever discussions they feel compelled to have. That is entirely their business, and we encourage it in our disclaimer. 

The parent who has had the most recent issue with the first book of the year is concerned because I am not explicitly talking about language and sexual content with the students, which he seems to think is my responsibility since I am assigning the book to read. I, on the other hand, think it is my job to assign the book and teach the students the rhetorical devices and complexities of how the book was written (you know, the ENGLISH part of it), and it is the parents' job to discuss any particular issues their children bring to them related to curse words or sexual content if they have concerns about these things. 

If I were to discuss these things, I would be overstepping, which isn't my job, and on this point, the parent and I agree. 

I think the parent's basic argument is that I should have picked a book that this particular parent feels is a better book.

But I picked this book in February and we listed the book choices and the disclaimer in March and this parent apparently enrolled in April and now it is September. Now is not really the time to be complaining that you didn't know what was in the book. 

One of the things I discuss with students while reading The Things They Carry is ethos and pathos, two types of rhetorical devices. Ethos is what gives something credibility; why can we trust an argument that someone makes? Pathos is the emotional language someone uses in an argument that makes the reader feel a certain thing and, therefore, reinforces the argument. 

Tim O'Brien, the author of this Pulitzer Prize-finalist story, served in Vietnam so he has lots of credibility as to what the Vietnam War was like (and this is what the entire book is about). He also writes stories and uses a great deal of pathos to help the reader feel what soldiers felt. 

One thing I explained to this parent is that my job is to prepare high schoolers for college English classes. And I don't know where my students will go to college. Some of them go to private college or Christian colleges, but some of them go to state schools. 

I went to a private Catholic college where I know some of my former students now attend, and I read books that had curse words and sex in them. I actually took a THEOLOGY course in college in which the books we were assigned had cursing and sex in them. 

My point is that keeping a high schooler away from things in the real world (like cursing and sex) doesn't prepare them for when they will be introduced to these things (and they will if they leave the house or if they currently have a cell phone and the Internet). 

I completely understand the desire to protect one's children. I completely understand the parent's argument that kids can't unsee or unthink the things they read. But I think it is better and safer to let them experience the world through books when they can discuss with parents how to address these things that confuse or scare them. Better this that to keep them so protected they have zero reference point and no concept of how to handle it when they do have to handle it in real life. 

Because they will. 

Multifarious: working with seniors, the a-word, boiling rage

I. Working with seniors

Since mid-April I have been working at a local high school two days a week to help seniors who need course recovery in order to meet graduation requirements. 

I have been, more or less, their mom on these days. When they are with me, they work. If they don't work, I nudge and harass and cheerlead and tell them to NOT SCROLL DOWN on the course recovery work because they will get overwhelmed. Or I explain things to them. Or I help pace them if they lose focus and have them check in with me. 

It has been mostly rewarding work, especially when a kid who has been coming to work with me finishes up her/his assignments, and we know they'll be able to cross the stage later this month. 

There are some, though, who won't walk the stage. They may not be able to finish course recovery this summer. Some of them will be back for another senior year. Or they will drop out. 

I think seniors overestimate their "adultness" once they hit that magical 18 on the birthday cake. I think sometimes teachers overestimate it, too, although I suspect this has more to do with teacher burnout than the kids to be honest. A lot of the kids are mature and responsible, but there are some who need a lot of hand-holding for a variety of reasons. And there are a lot of adults who would do a hell of a lot better with some more hand-holding. 

Even kids who are mature and responsible, who can keep track of their homework and club meetings and sports/work schedules, make bone-headed decisions. Or don't think of all the ramifications of a decision, and it's because their brains aren't done cooking yet. 

N is a bright kid whom I trust with a lot of things, but there are times I legit think to myself, "What is wrong with your brain?"

And the answer is: nothing. It is just an 18-year-old brain.

II. The a-word

The Roe v. Wade leak was all over the news last week, and I've spent a lot of time thinking about the prospect of things changing. How would that affect my daughter? How would that affect by sons?

I could be wrong, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone say they are pro-abortion. I don't think anyone likes abortion. I don't like abortion. In a perfect world, no woman would ever feel she needed an abortion. But we don't live in a perfect world. 

We live in a world where we give a shit ton of lip service to the notion that we value life. We do nothing of the sort. One million lives lost to COVID is proof of that. Our systems have not, as a general rule, valued poor life. Or black life. Or immigrant life. They do not right now. We do not value infant life because if we did we would make childcare leave more feasible and for longer. We would have ENOUGH FORMULA. We would fund universal preschool to help all children start out more closely to a level playing field. We wouldn't have such ridiculous drug laws that have put so many men in prison away from their families. 

I have never had an abortion, but I have had an unplanned pregnancy (while on birth control). All things were "right" for me. I was in my mid-30s, had been in a long and healthy marriage, had no debts or drug addiction or anything that would endanger my security and ability to pay the bills. I had two children and could afford them so there wasn't a concern that I couldn't afford another one. Despite these things, my unplanned pregnancy was scary and overwhelming AND I WAS IN THE BEST POSSIBLE CIRCUMSTANCES. 

So I will not pass judgment on any woman who is in different or worse circumstances who cannot, whatever her reason, sustain a pregnancy. And I think it is absolutely wrong for any government entity at any level to tell a person what she can or can't do with her body. We didn't mandate vaccines; we do not take organs from dead bodies that did not, prior to death, give permission. We need to keep our laws off women's bodies as well.

III. Boiling rage

Maybe the rage relates to what I just wrote about, or maybe it is perimenopausal hormone stuff? Or maybe it is the ceaseless exhaustion that comes with being a mom to three and a wife to one and none of them seem able at times to do much of anything for themselves, without me specifically directing them on what.to.do. They rely on me because I made it my priority for so long to be relied upon (the downside of the SAHM thing). 

Or maybe it is the confluence, the place where all these intersect. The place where I would like to just run away and be responsible only for myself and my wants and needs and not have to have others in my brain.

Maybe it is that our tax people told us we had to pay something like $7,000 in taxes, which we paid, but we only owed $900, which is great, except now we are waiting for the government to return out money and it is freaking me out because we had termites ($800) and the boys keep getting ingrown toenails which means $200 surgeries all the damn time. Maybe it is that I have been so busy since I got home from Ecuador that I haven't had a minute to collect my thoughts and just be. Maybe I miss quarantine just a little bit when life was a fuck-ton slower. 

Maybe I need to take another half-dose of Lexapro. 

Why am I doing this? (I have to ask myself about subbing)

There are times when subbing is pretty great, like last week when I subbed at an elementary school for a teacher I know who asked me to "teach her 2nd graders something about writing." (She says writing is not her strong suit.)

So, I did a lesson on adding descriptive details to sentences to make them more interesting. Students were working on fables at the time. We also practiced punctuation for dialogue, and I moved among them answering questions and helping them edit their work.

There are also times when subbing is soul-crushing, like yesterday when I subbed double-periods for a band teacher who left a note that basically said, "The day will be easy. Show a movie."

While this wasn't the hardest subbing day I've ever had, I also may have allowed kids to get on their phones because my main role was to keep kids alive and from fighting. They don't want to watch a G or PG movie, especially not one of the three I offered them and for which they had to vote. They wanted to sit with their feet propped up (and who doesn't), but there weren't enough chairs in some classes for everyone to do this, so I then had to argue with people over that. (Because middle schoolers are all about what is fair.)

I realize the teacher doesn't have desks in the band room, but there are things called clipboards (and I am happy to buy 50 of them for him), so students can have some work to do in groups that is actually about music education. Even a little bit of work keeps kids occupied and the sub has SOMETHING to hold them accountable to.

I said this much to the AP when I left (nicely, of course).

Am I a difficult person?
Perhaps.
Do I deserve being called a "Karen?"
Possibly.
I have been known to not be able to keep my mouth shut when something is just dumb or wrong or not well considered.


But I became a sub because it galled me to see subs in my kids' classes who were sitting on their phones.
So, here I am, ready to be more than that, and I am sometimes hobbled by the teachers. (Which annoys me, and yet I.SO.GET because planning work for a sub is like another whole stinking job.)

Teachable moments all around

I try to remain calm in the face of teachable moments, which can be embarrassing as fuck.

A case in point:
The mother of M's friend texted me with screenshots showing M's messaging his friend (her son) on Google Classroom things like, "Suck suck suckety suck your ball."

My first instinct was to laugh because I'm childish.
My second instinct was to think, "Yep. That's a 10-year-old boy."
My third instinct was to think, "Dear god, I'm embarrassed."
My fourth instinct was to think, "This is a good teachable moment for M."

So I replied to the mom that I would talk to M, and that I suspect his middle school brother's influence was having an impact.
She was mostly concerned about it being on Google Classroom where it could pop up in front of teachers, which I didn't even think about.

When M came home, I asked him about it.
I told him he can't type stuff like that on Google Classroom because other people, like his friend's mom and possibly teachers, might see it.

I did not give him hell for typing, "Suck balls."

My hope is that in talking to him as I did, he will
1. listen and abide
and
2. know that he is human, makes mistakes, and can fix them.

Some of my students are struggling with plagiarism, and so I hope to take a similar tact.
Rather than lambasting them and making them feel ashamed, I'm hoping to talk about it and how it can be a very complex issue.

It occurred to me while I was thinking about plagiarism how often teachers, myself included, inadvertently plagiarize.
I don't know a single teacher who doesn't regularly go online to get lesson plan ideas, questions, activities, etc.
Teachers use these and unless the worksheets they use are copyrighted, there is little or no indication of where the lesson plan, activity, etc. came from.

I have asked teachers if I can have a copy of their worksheets, but I don't give them credit for it.
And the truth of the matter is that I don't know where they got it.
Did they create it or did they get it from the original person or did they get it from someone else who "borrowed/stole" it from the original person?
One worksheet I use on how to embed quotations didn't have any sources cited (a local high school teacher had used it with her students, and I liked it so borrowed, but I changed it up a bit.)
I ended up looking for it online, and the only one I found online said, "stolen liberally from a variety of sources."

This is one of those super gray-area issues that make me unable to give any student hell about what they are or are not doing.

My goal is to have a very open and honest conversation and guide them so that they can avoid making similar mistakes in future (when the consequences might be much harsher).

The sub job that has made me doubt my abilities

Here's the problem with people telling you you're good at something--you start to believe them.
And then, perhaps at some point, you're thrown into a situation that makes you doubt that you know what you're doing.
You doubt that you know anything at all.

I was warned about this sub job, but I took it anyway.
Because I need money to recoup the car repair account.
Because I believe that I'm an effective teacher.
Because I know that I try my darndest to be consistent and disciplined as well as fair and forgiving.
Because, if nothing else, I show up when I say I'll show up, and a lot of subs don't even do that.

I subbed four days this week and feel like I've aged 400 years.
The worst part of it is that with my OCD and my tendency to be self-reflective, I am internally reliving every day.
What did I do wrong?
What could I do better?
What could I do to prevent me from having to call the office repeatedly for backup with two particular classes?

Rationally, I know that subbing is not the same as being with kids full-time.
I'm at a disadvantage from the get-go.
I'm not the "real" teacher.
I know that I can do everything I'm supposed to do, but if other things beyond my control are not in place, I'm at the mercy of the situation.

Rationally, I know all these things.

Rationally, I know that a couple kids, who bucked me hard on Monday, refused to follow my instructions, and rolled their eyes so hard at me I thought they'd stick there forever, by Thursday, were sitting up front near me and attempting to do their work, even if they don't complete their work. Even if they play around.
That is progress, and progress for some students is glacier-moving slow.

I've talked vented to a handful of teachers who say they have struggled just as much with these students. Who tell me it's not me.
And rationally, I believe them.

But irrationally, I wonder if maybe I don't actually know what I thought I knew.

My thoughts on late work in school, teenage brains, and wholeness

Up until recently, I had never turned in a freelance assignment late.

If I even suspect I might need a few extra days, which is mostly because I frequently having trouble getting sources to schedule an interview, I always request an extension. I end up turning in the assignments by or before the deadline, but I figure it's better to state my issues up front than be begging or apologizing on the backend.

This semester, however, with my subbing and cottage school and graduate class, I completely missed the deadline for an assignment.

By a week.

The only reason it didn't blow up in my face is that my editor also completely forgot she had assigned me the article.

When I realized my mistake, I emailed her, apologized profusely, and told her I would get it done that day. (And I did).

I have been thinking a lot about my experience during this long-term sub job.

Different teachers have different late-work policies for various reasons, and I understand and appreciate the reasoning behind these.

Teachers have so much grading to do anyway that to allow late work means they are in a constant state of adding grades. It makes it hard for a teacher to put any assignment "to bed" if they are constantly having to go back in and add grades that were turned in late. Accepting late work also makes the students who do turn work in on-time feel like they are working hard for nothing: Why am I busting my butt to turn things in on time?

Especially in high school, having a no late work policy makes sense for students who will be heading to college. I don't remember a single college professor who allowed late work (although I always turned things in on-time, so maybe they did, and I just never knew).

I think when I taught full-time I had a late work policy whereby I would deduct a certain amount of points for a certain number of days. After 2-3 days late, I didn't accept it.

Even if a teacher doesn't accept late work, he/she almost certainly has students with 504 plans or IEPs who, at the end of the semester, are playing catch-up. And if a teacher has a 3-page list of students with failing grades at the end of the semester, he/she will likely allow some work to be submitted late to appease parents or administrators (to check the box that they are "intervening" on behalf of the students).

Ultimately, even if you have a zero late work policy, in some form or fashion, you are dealing with late work. Students who have an excused absence are allowed the number of days they missed plus one to submit late work. Late work is simply the nature of the beast in education.

The other night, while attending N's orchestra concert at her school where I have been subbing, I noticed a kid in one of my AP classes who performs in the "top" orchestra group. This kid is a polite, nice kid who also happens to struggle with turning things in one time (I don't know him well enough or long enough to know if this is a normal thing or what). His mom introduced herself to me (since I had made contact with her via email).

I could look at this kid as "lazy" or "irresponsible" or "scatter-brained," but seeing him perform in the top orchestra group (for which students have to audition), reminded me that seeing him for 50 minutes each day doesn't sum up his entire personhood.

It reminded me of the fullness of these teenagers. They aren't just one class or one grade. Even if their grade is garbage in one class, they have other classes and other responsibilities. Many have jobs (where I'm pretty certain they are learning the value of doing things on-time) or sports teams (where showing up on-time is also critical and where there is a penalty for not being on-time).

I have noticed the danger of zero tolerance late-work policies, which is that students may just stop trying, or they may cheat in order to turn work in on-time.

I have caught at least 6 students cheating because they forgot an assignment and were given the answers by a friend. I didn't give them zeroes, but I made them do the assignment again on their own.

No late work also makes kids give up if they even think they are going to be late. It encourages them to take the path of least resistance, which is not to do the work at all. If they think they'll be late, what incentive is there to do the work if it isn't going to count for anything?

So I have had to think to myself, "What is my goal in the classroom with them?" and my goal is for them to 1. Learn and 2. Do the Work On Their Own.

The truth is that I don't actually begin grading their work the day it is assigned, so why should I be a hard-ass about a due date when it may take me an additional 3 days or 5 days or 7 days to even find the time to look at the assignment?

It is probably too loosey-goosey, but I figure if it is turned in by the time I grade it, then it is on-time.

The benefit of extending grace to these kids is that on the occasions when I might need to be a hard-ass, they might be more willing to remember the grace I extended to them and think, "Ms. ___ was flexible with me so I am going to be flexible with her."

As the parent of a fairly responsible gifted-and-talented teenager in a stable, upper-middle class, high parent-involvement home, I am well aware that even the most responsible kids forget or get distracted or have a week in which they have just.too.much going on.

This necessitates I think about the non-G&T kids who are more irresponsible in unstable, non-upper middle class, low-parent involvement homes.

I also have to remember that these kids' pre-frontal cortexes aren't fully formed yet and won't stop forming until they are around 24 years old. The PFC controls executive function---including decision-making, working towards defined goals, determining consequences, and predicting outcomes.

Sometimes I think what we ask of these kids is nearly impossible given what their brains are actually capable of.

I'm still alive (Day "I don't even know" of the long-term sub stint)

This long-term sub position has been a great learning experience.

I have learned so much about rhetorical analysis from throwing myself into it and finding ways to explore and explain it to my students.

See, I even call them "my students."

I really, really, REALLY enjoy working with them. Even the turds (who usually only seem like turds because they need more hand-holding than what can realistically be given to them in a class with 28 or 31 students.)

I really, really, REALLY hate grading 150 papers a week (assuming I've only assigned them one thing to write, which is a joke. English teachers assign many more writing activities).

I might actually be drowning in papers as I type this.

I've had two in-person parent conferences.
More parent emails than I can count.
Emails to and from counselors and ECE coordinators.
Times when I've let kids come to the classroom to work on stuff during lunch.
Times when I've let kids come to the classroom after school.

I've written tests.
I've planned finals.
I've created lessons.
I've produced my own examples for kids to use as models.

The other English teachers tell me I'm a great teacher.

I know.
This long-term job has helped me realize that I am choosing to be a part-time teacher, but just because I'm part-time doesn't mean I don't kick ass.

I took a survey about substitute teaching....

and I laughed and laughed.

Now, I don't hate substitute teaching but that is only because I was a teacher before.
I'm not sure how or why anyone who hasn't been a teacher does it.
Summers off are nice, but I'm not sure it is nice enough to warrant subbing.

I don't think I'm an especially good sub unless you compare with me some of the other subs I've seen with my own two eyes.
I am not on a walker.
I do not use a cane.
These two things aren't problems unless the people who use them are subbing at a middle school, in which case I cannot help but think of an injured gazelle and a pride of hungry lions.
I swear I know of one sub who might be a very good sub, but she uses a cane and has a gimpy arm (maybe from a stroke?).
I just hope that if I ever have a cane and a stroke-paralyzed arm, I do not have to resort to subbing to generate income.
There has to be an easier job.

I do a couple of things well:
1. I show up.
2. I dress appropriately.

The questions on the survey were general ranking-type questions---1 being never and 5 being always.

The question that made me absolutely cackle was about being escorted by staff to the room where I'm subbing.
As in "Are you escorted by school staff to the room where you will sub?"
I asked my computer, "Is that an actual expectation that the district has for school staff?"
Because that has never, ever happened.
Most of the time I have to specifically ask what room I'll be in and "Could you please point me in the direction of the room."
In schools where I regularly sub, I give directions to other subs wandering around the building.
(I'm not dissing anyone about this; office staff has their hands full in the morning. I just wondered if this was an actual policy by some wonk who never sets foot in an actual school building.)

On the comment part of the survey, I said that I outright laughed at question # whatever it was about being escorted. "I laughed out loud at question #4," is what I wrote.

I said that I wish teachers wouldn't leave just busy work, although I understand why they do.

Some of the best subbing days I have had is when the teachers 1. knew me and 2. left actual work in their week's lineup because they know that I will actually get through the lesson or as much as humanly possible. The kids took it seriously, and I could actually teach them something rather than just being a breathing adult in the room.

I said I wish the district would hire part-time permanent subs so that I could be at one school three days a week rather than bopping all over. That is probably the thing I hate the most about subbing---the lack of regular routine.
I'd feel like I could make more of a difference and develop relationships with kids.

I said I was glad the new sub system has a "no telephone" option because my husband was about ready to rip our phone out of the wall, and what is the point of having an online system if you still have to get phone calls?

Of course, as I write this and lament that I don't make a difference with kids, I think about the kindergarteners I subbed for in December who made a ring around me during recess and thought I was the funniest thing ever when I tried to escape the ring (which wasn't actually me being funny; I wanted to be left alone, but they thought I was hilarious).

And I think about those occasional students who, for whatever reason, take a liking to me and treat me with more respect than they do some of their "real" teachers.

And I think about the students who start out like shits in a class but then figure out that I'm really actually wanting to help them and then allow me to help them and quit acting like shits in the course of 50 minutes.

I guess there are worse jobs than subbing.

1. Like a Millennial and 2. why teaching and fun are important

This is the second year that my neighbor and I are seeing Broadway shows together. 

She orders season tickets; every month or so we go out to dinner and afterward are entertained for two hours by people who have more talent in their pinky toes than I do in my entire body. 

At last's month night out, I was telling her about my mindf*ck resulting from my grad class, in which I feel/felt like "not a real educator" because I don't teach full-time in a district school. 

My friend, who has two 20-something children, promptly responded, "Pshaw." 

She then went on to tell me that I am actually far hipper than I realize because I am, essentially, a Gen Xer who is living a Millennial-like professional life. I'm not tied down to one gig and have a much more interesting life because of it. 

She reminded me that not every person gets to interview local "bigwigs" around town, the kind who have donated millions to various civic projects. (That piece will come out in 2018, and one of the "bigwigs" even told me I'm a "fun interviewer.) She reminded me that not everyone gets a byline. 

After her cheerleading session, I began to look at my odd professional career with pride. 

Not every English teacher has an actual almost 8-year portfolio of published writing pieces. Actually, I'd be willing to bet that most don't. That is something special I can bring to my students, even if I don't teach that many of them. (Here is a nice article about this.)

I had thought to myself, "I'm not a real teacher because I have small classes," but I had to remind myself that my college professor only has 11 students in my grad class. It isn't the size of the class that makes you a teacher. Just because I haven't taught thousands of students doesn't mean those I have taught haven't learned something valuable from me. 

I recently received a text from a mom of two of my former students, both of whom now attend the local university. She text was short and sweet and basically said, Ms. V's English class is harder than college English classes. 

I can hardly think of a better compliment. And I know that even though my class is challenging, my former students had fun. They looked forward to being there. 

It is very important to me to make English fun and interesting, to be funny and interesting to my students. Back in the day when I taught in the district, I think I brought fun and interest to the class. In moments when I think about going back to the district at some point, I wonder whether I would still be able to do that with all the testing and data-driven instruction that is done. 

In this class, as we've been designing lessons and thinking up plans, I have realized that I'm pretty good at that. I'm pretty good at thinking how to take a piece of text and make it teachable. 

For not being a "real professional," I'm not half-bad. 

There is always more to the story (the fight, the cop and the taser)

Paul Harvey would always give his listeners "The rest of the story."

And in the situation at the local high school, it appears there are many components to the "rest of the story."

Reports are that surveillance video at the school shows administrators de-escalating the situation when the student resource officer escalated it. The investigations are ongoing, and I doubt the public at large will ever get the full and complete story because that requires lots of unpleasant information being made transparent.

Last night, D, N and I attended Open House at this school because it is our resides. Although N is applying to a different school, if she doesn't get accepted there, she will go to this nearest high school so I wanted her to be familiar with it.

What I learned from speaking with two individuals who work at the school is that the two students involved in the fracas had been at the high school for two weeks.

Why is that important?

Anyone who has worked in a public school understands that in some cases, a student transferring in from another school at an odd time of year, can mean trouble. Sometimes a student who is a behavior problem in one school moves on to another one before the sh*t hits the fan.

I remember a student who came into 6th grade during an odd time of year and immediately gave off signals of disrespect to me. I had done my best to welcome the girl, but I quickly picked up that something was off. I talked to the student about it and was very soon summoned for a conference with the principal and the mom (who had gone over my head to the principal). I was given a tongue-lashing by the mother about how her daughter treats people with respect.

Move ahead a couple months, and this child was getting in trouble CONSTANTLY. Her grades were terrible, and her behavior was terrible. The mother somehow faded into the background and didn't come in for conferences when the teachers requested them. The child had issues with every teacher on the team.

I felt vindicated that I had picked up on it from the first time this student sat in my class.

The second reason that the students had been in the school only two weeks is because teenagers are ALL. ABOUT. RELATIONSHIPS, and you cannot have a relationship after two weeks. Students frequently come into a school from another school that may not have the same culture or the same discipline. Students come from other schools and think they can play. It takes time to acclimate them to a school and for them to develop relationships with the staff in the building.

But it is not all about what may lie on the side of the students.
Teachers can have their fare share of unpleasantries.

Like yesterday when I subbed and heard a teacher screaming at a student, just really going off on this kid. And then I heard the kid crying and screaming back at the teacher. I don't know what happened, but based on what I heard, I suspect that the student had just pushed the teacher too far. The teacher had reached a point where she just wasn't able to take it anymore. Maybe the teacher tabbed the student out, and the student refused to go (this is a tactic to remove the individuals from each other's presence and give them a chance to chill). Or maybe the teacher, for reasons I am not privy to, was just at the end of her rope. Or maybe this teacher is just crazy (because there are some teachers who are just crappy for a variety of reasons).

The point is that I don't know all the angles to that situation, just like I don't know all the angles to the fight at our resides high school.

Even the "golden school" downtown that gets to select all the best and brightest has been in the middle of its own brouhaha about the principal saying inappropriate things to students. (Although I admit it makes me a little happy to know that the school that the public assumes is the be-all-and-end-all is not as shiny as it appears.)

If there is anything I know with certainty, it is the following:
1. Working with middle- and high schoolers is not for pussies.
2. Schools with the shittiest reputations have redeeming qualities.
3. Schools with the best reputations have their shitty aspects and are sometimes resting on undeserved laurels.
4. Parents and students are often fooled by bells & whistles.
5. Parents are sometimes not the best judges of their students.
6. Teachers sometimes act inappropriately (even yours truly, who told a kid I would "kick his ass" if he didn't do well on my test, although in my head I said "I'm gonna kick your butt." And I was joking, but I said it twice. I was also very pregnant.) 

Trying not to be a complete b*tch in class

My poor college professor.

I really feel for her having to manage my "chip-on-my-shoulder for not being a traditional school district teacher self" in class.

I know she recognizes the psychological self-imposed "drama" of me already having a MAT, having gone through the state internship program, having classroom experience under my belt, and taking a class with people who do not. She knows I feel a bit like an 8th grader in a class of 4th grade students.

On the positive side, I am certainly learning a lot as a result of the text: The English Teacher's Companion by Jim Burke.

I ran headfirst into my weakness as a teacher, which is that I suck at grammar. I can write well, but don't ask me to define an appositive, an adverbial clause, or to succinctly explain when and why to use a colon over a semicolon.

My professor gave us a list of grammar terms and asked us to rank them in terms of how well we understood them. I gave a "1" for everything, which basically means I've heard this term but could not explain it to you or anyone else. 

And I felt compelled (because I cannot shut my big mouth) to say out loud that while I do understand the importance of "doing grammar," I do not necessarily agree with the importance of expecting students to be able to explicitly name an adverbial clause or a gerund.

A classmate (who happens to also be middle-aged and has a freelance background) responded to me that I (actually, she said "you," but I don't know if she meant "you as in me" or "you as in the general you")  will never be a great writer without understanding the rules of grammar. I understood her comment, but I'm not sure I agree (and I think I also might be a little insulted that she suggested I could never be a great writer, even though I know this is true).

I'm not sure I believe that Hemingway or Steinbeck or Bronte or Austen or Garcia Marquez or Roth wrote or writes from a place of analyzing whether this gerund clause works better than this other gerund phrase in those direct, explicit, scientific and clinical terms. Maybe they do?  Who knows?

I think that to be a great editor, a person probably needs to know the rules of grammar really well. And I realize now, as the editor of my students, that I am lacking in that department. Although, I think there are probably a lot of editors who can't recite all the rules of grammar.

Maybe this is why I've never aspired to write the Great American Novel?
But I don't think so.
I think it is because I have nothing of fictional merit to say....
I think it is because I have no great imaginative spirit that drives me to write in that way....
I think it is because I don't want to put the time into writing like that....
I don't think it is because I couldn't define a compound complex sentence if I tried.

Maybe the stick up my butt is because I subbed 3 days this week with a class of MMD students and worked with them on writing narratives? Maybe it is because even if I explained to these kids what is a subject and a predicate and called them by their official grammatical names, these kids cannot write a sentence better than what my 2nd grader can?

Maybe it is because I only see my students at the cottage school one day a week and think the value of having a class discussion about a text and analyzing it together is WAY more critical than spending that 65 minutes discussing how to write a sentence with an appositive in it and specifically bashing them over the head that it is an appositive.

I suspect I may have come across as a bit of an asshole, but I fully recognize that this was in large part because I recognized in myself my glaring weakness as a teacher: the grammar thing. I have never been able to understand the grammar thing, although I certainly understand it better now as an adult than I ever did as a kid. I could not diagram a sentence to save my life as a kid.  As an adult, I can do it just slightly better than "meh."

And I guess a part of me is also going off the chain right now because what follows are the instructions to the class for next week's homework:

Read Chapter 8. Type 3 text-dependent questions about grading that you encountered in the reading and include page number. 

As a writer and a teacher AND A STUDENT AT THE MOMENT, I am confused by this question. What is she asking exactly?  Is she asking me to type 3 questions I had in my head about grading as I was reading or is she asking me to type 3 questions that the author asked about grading that I "encountered" as I read and, thereafter, reflected upon. Is she asking me to type his questions or my reflections??? Or both?

That "encountered" is a tricky word, I think. When I think of encountering something, I think of meeting it in a dark alley. It brings itself forward to me, which suggests it would be a question someone else asked that I met in a dark alley....or in this chapter. I mean I even looked up the stinking definition of the word "encounter" to try to figure it out.

So I emailed her and asked.

Sometimes it is hard not to be an asshole, and I try to remember that when I think about students who sometimes are asked to do things that just seem so confusing or tedious.

I jinxed myself (in fetal position, overwhelmed with doubt)

Sigh.

The highs and the lows. I sometimes (thankfully) forget just how subject to them I am.

Wednesday of last week was high. I spoke to two composition classes at my college alma mater about my experience as a blogger and how it has impacted my professional life freelancing. In addition to seeing and helping out one of my friends from undergrad (who is now the professor of these classes), one student came up to me after my presentation and told me how much better my talk made her feel about her own generalized anxiety disorder and being on medication.

Yippee!
Huzzah!
Woohoo!

As the tide rolls in.....so it rolls out.

Thursday was horrible.

I should have felt high, especially since a sweet friend texted me her son's poem about my class at the cottage school, which was delightful.

But on Thursday I felt completely ill-equipped as a professional.
I felt like I don't know what I'm doing.
I felt plagued by doubt as to whether I'm an effective teacher according to the people in the "know."

Taking this graduate class, even though I was told on Wednesday that I've actually "technically" taken this class before but need to do it again since the first go-round was like 20 years ago, is bringing forth all sorts of doubt in me. Even though my directors at the cottage school are thrilled with what I bring and how I teach. Even though my students actively and vocally enjoy my class and feel they are rigorously learning.

Graduate classes set the bar super high, and I understand why. Who doesn't want only the best, most organized, most committed people in classrooms?  I'm a person who is highly susceptible to trying to meet unattainable and unsustainable goals, even if it makes me half crazy to try to do it.

Added to this was my experience subbing at a middle school on Tuesday and feeling like a failure since I called the student response team twice (which I strive to never have to do, even though this may be a completely stupid and unreasonable goal I set for myself). The kids were on like day 3 or 4 of nonconsecutive subs doing busy work, and that is a shit situation for a sub to have to attempt to mop up. Three or four days of busy work for a middle schooler might as well be a freaking lifetime.

By last night I was feeling better. It helped when I got a text from the mom of two girls I taught at the cottage school. I taught the younger daughter English all four years of high school; she is now at the local university.  The text said:

We are discussing college English class. 

Ms. V's class is more challenging!  

We love you! Thank you!

Today, I have completed my grad class homework and had a first day back at the cottage school, and I feel like I don't suck. For today, I don't suck. Tomorrow I might feel differently.....

Here's a hoop....I think I'll jump through it

A long time ago, before I had children but after I got my MAT, I thought about working towards a Ph.D. 

I am a pretty goal-oriented person, and I thought that would be something great to achieve.

At some point, I let that idea evaporate. It was probably when I was knee-deep in diapers, pacifiers, burp cloths and all-purpose nipple ointment. 

After I began working at the cottage school with high schoolers in 2013, I decided that I would like to be certified to teach high schoolers for that far off time when I might return full-time to teaching. My current certification is 5-9, and while I like this age-group a lot, I also really like choice. If I have to take classes anyway to renew my certification every five years, I might as well make them classes that count towards additional certification and the ability to move between middle and high school if I so choose. 

In 2015, I took an adolescent psychology course, and now I'm taking a course called Teaching Secondary English. 

Now, here is the blurb about this class: Application of current theories of pedagogy, instructional strategies, student assessment and evaluation tools for teaching English in the high school. Topics intentionally addressed are learning styles, special needs, diversity and technology integration. 

As a person who already has an MAT, and is the only one in the class who already has an MAT, I already know about.....90% of this stuff. 

I am jumping through the proverbial hoop, and this makes me feel a little frustrated. 

This is not to say the class has no value at all. I can always, always learn something in any new situation.

But I'm having to write the big, drawn-out "lesson plans" that no actual teacher ever does in real life. (One student asked if teachers do this for every lesson. The professor--who knows my situation--and I looked at each other, smirked a bit, and shook our heads "no.")

I'm having to prove that I know how to think about instruction in an orderly, chronological way. I'm having to teach a lesson plan to high schoolers to prove that I can write one of these big long things and then follow it. 

Sigh.

I did this 19 years ago when I got my first MAT. I do this logical, organized thinking 27 weeks a year at the cottage school for my high schoolers.

I know I should take the high road and suck it up (which I will do and AM doing).

I need to grouse a little bit, though. 

I KNOW lots of other women do it, but

Let's go back....to 1938.

My mom's dad died at age 40, leaving my grandmother with a newborn, a 3-year-old and four other kids.  She had to work, and my mother knew it. But I spent my formative years hearing the story of how my mom loved the days when her mom was off of work because her mom was home when she got in from school.  This experience in my mom's life made her insist on being at home with her kids during their formative years. She worked part-time at my elementary school after my brother started school for many years until her breast cancer diagnosis in 1996. 

If there is any other refrain that still plays in my head, it is my mother saying repeatedly, "I will NOT raise my grandkids." This was part of her badger-your-daughter-to-death-so-she-doesn't-accidentally-get-pregnant" plan.

Fast forward to me.  I didn't even want kids when I married, nor did D, but we adopted my mom's advice to live on one salary from the second we married so that IF we ever had kids, I could stay home with them IF I wanted to.

I didn't think about childcare until I was newly pregnant with N and did some summer portfolio scoring with another newly pregnant teacher who also had an 18-month-old.  It was then that my eyes were opened to the "You mean I have to pay a daycare in the summer even though I'm not working during the summer?" situation.

By the time I told others I was pregnant, I had decided to be a stay-at-home mom. I knew the grandparents would not "raise" my kids, and I knew I didn't trust anyone else besides myself to do it well. 

Being a stay-at-home mom was the best and the suckiest experience of my life. It gifted me years of time with my children and stole years of salary and professional experience from me. 

I have spent this past school year subbing pretty frequently at my former middle school---three days this week--and it has made me miss it terribly.  

But not terribly enough to go back full-time.  

When I am asked about returning full-time (and I am, often), I come out with a comment like,
"I'm still freakishly attached to my children."  And that is true.  This morning, M called my cell phone because he misses me when I sub too many early mornings in a row, and it killed my heart a little bit to know this. 

And subbing is not my only job.  I want to teach at the cottage school because of the freedom I have there.  And I want to write for the magazines because I love to write. And I want the flexibility of being able to visit with my mom, who just turned 79 and will not live forever.

I think I feel like I'm letting someone down, even though I'm not.  Some group of nebulous students who don't know they miss having me as a teacher?  A group of teachers who might like the idea of working with me because I seem pretty great?  Is that why I feel guilt, like I'm letting them down because I am not working with them full-time?  It is stupid to feel guilty for feeling this way, but I think I do.  

Maybe guilt isn't even what I'm feeling.  If that is the case, then I don't know what to call it.  

Maybe longing is the right word.  I feel a longing to do something I left a long time ago but don't want to do full-time, at least not right now. 

When I think about my experience, and I think about what I will tell my own daughter about her own career path and her parenthood path (if she chooses it), I'm not sure what to tell her.

You can have it all, but not all at once?

You can have it all, but you will be freaking tired and feel like you're not giving anything 100%?

You can have most of it, but you will still feel guilt and longing and like you missed out on something even though you wouldn't change it if you could go back again?

Just give up the idea that you can have it all because no one has ever had it all in the history of humankind.  It is a myth?

And I know that LOTS and LOTS of other women have been teachers and have managed to do it, but I haven't managed to do it, which makes me feel like maybe I suck.  Hell, I haven't even tried to do it. I just flat out said, "I'm not even going to try because I think it would be dismal for me and my family because I know how I am." 

(I'm the sub who left sub plans for tomorrow's sub---that is how freakishly organized and anal I am.)

Maybe I'm just a big pussy? Maybe that is what I feel?  Ashamed?  

But this that I am doing, this cottage school teaching and this minimal subbing and this freelance writing, is as close to having it all as I can figure out at the moment.  

Adventures in subbing

I have been re-employed by the district for a year now as a substitute teacher.

What began as deep-set fear walking into a new school has become a more comfortable "I can probably handle today" feeling.

What began as a "how in the heck am I going to find jobs?" feeling is now a pretty consistent buzz of my phone with people asking me to sub.

I often hear remarks from teachers that I am a very good sub, which a part of me finds perplexing until I see other subs.

I have worked with subs who really should be retired or possibly in their graves (stroke victims who walk with canes and/or walkers and are basically seen as the lame impala to the hungry lions of middle school).  I have worked with subs who are young enough to be my child, who have never taught, who are ignored by the kids and who cry, which is like being the lame impala to the hungry lions of middle school.

Subbing has reminded me that middle schoolers are some of the biggest jerks on the planet. They are also some of the neediest, most fragile human beings on the planet.

Subbing has reminded me that middle school kids often take a day to warm up to you.  The first day subbing may be a bloodbath, but if they see you again on day two, they are suddenly more respectful.  Unfortunately, sometimes day one is so bad subs don't return for day two.

Subbing has reminded me that kids want you to engage with them, and if you do, they are more willing to offer up that respect on day two. That doesn't mean they are going to do exactly what you want on day two, but you will see more respect out of them.  As long as you engage.

And by engaging, I don't mean complimenting their clothes or hair.  I have seen subs do this, and I don't understand it.  I suspect it is an attempt to develop camaraderie with the kids, but I have only witnessed it fail miserably.  Kids can smell b.s. in adults from a mile out.

I am a big proponent of getting the lay of the land because nothing is going to get you attitude more than yelling at kids...as their regular teachers might...when you have been in the building all of 15 minutes.  I can't blame the kids. If someone walked into my house and started yelling at me about how to write my freelancing article, I'd get up in their face, too.

I have found that quiet and close gets me a lot further.
But not freakishly close.
Middle schoolers don't like that either.

I strive to be helpful in the classroom if I am in as a resource teacher, and that doesn't mean holding up the wall.  If a teacher begins to pass out papers, I go up and grab some to assist.  I walk around the classroom, peeking over shoulders, asking "Do you need help?"  If someone is losing focus, I quietly try to refocus them.  I do not do this because I want teachers to tell me what a great sub I am.  I do this because I could not sit there or stand there and do nothing the entire day.

If I have a classroom unto myself, I always introduce myself and apologize in advance for mispronouncing the students' names....noting that I understand getting a name mispronounced because of my own 3-syllable last name.  Students are often amazed that I get their names correct.  I don't know if this is a result of having taught before or being a linguistic phenom.

I then lay out the expectations and assignment, making note that I understand that having a sub in the room is not normal and generally sucks.  I get it.  They are usually given busy-work, and I hate busy-work myself so I can totally sympathize.

If I am in an elementary class, and sometimes middle if I have been with the students before, I try to work in my favorite game, Stump the Chumps, which is me asking them questions about what we read or discussed.  Listening to Car Talk frequently has been good for something.

I never, ever sit down when I sub, unless I'm in a resource capacity working with individual students.   I probably get 10,000 steps because I am on my feet the entire time, walking around, checking how they are, not giving them much of an opportunity to do anything ridiculous.

When I taught full-time, I really felt like I built a special rapport with my kids, and subbing has reminded me that I still "got it."

I mean, when I walk back into places I've subbed and middle schoolers I don't really know hug me.
That is some serious props.  

Superstar year

In some ways, I feel like this fourth year at the cottage school has been a "superstar" year.  I've hit a nice groove and proven myself.  I haven't heard any parent complaints (which doesn't mean there haven't been any....just that I haven't heard of them).

I planned two field trips in the fall...to see Macbeth performed live with my high schoolers who read the play and to see Shakespeare's First Folio with my middle and high schoolers.  On Friday,  I had a local potter come in and give a demonstration as a tie-in for the middle graders' reading of A Single Shard.

I spoke with my high schoolers on Friday about how I appreciate and want their suggestions, which one student gave last week when I inadvertently gave them a spoiler on their reading of Jane Eyre.  Basically, he asked if I could revise the instructions on their assignments so that students can annotate better and avoid such spoilers.

I'm really glad he said something because I like it when students give me their feedback even when, or particularly when, it is constructively critical.

Ultimately, I want all of my students to both enjoy and learn a lot from my class, and if the class or my assignments are boring or repetitive, then they will get less out of it.  And as much as I like feeling less pressure because I'm in a nice groove and have proven myself, I worry that I could become complacent.

I think my desire to change things up to keep myself from getting bored will prevent that, but there is always that possibility.

Next year, I am very excited to teach The Wednesday Wars to my middle schoolers, and I'm already planning how I will have students read one of five Shakespearean plays so that they can do some fun literature circle work with the text in the spring.  I haven't gotten excited about a middle school book like this in a long time.

One of the best things about teaching is finding those extra little things that I can encourage my students to read or watch or listen to that adds to their understanding of the literature.  Last night, I watched To Walk Invisible about the Bronte sisters on PBS, and it was really interesting.  I knew the basic story of the sisters, but it really made a difference to me to see it dramatically acted out.  It put a human face to the myth of the Brontes and helped me understand better what influenced their stories.

These are the books I'll be teaching, with the goal being three classes, although depending on enrollment I may have to merge my high school classes together.  I like being able to add new works while also doing some previous books I've taught.  Even if I've taught them before, I learn something new and see something different each time I teach them.

Middle-- Grades 6-8

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery  (never taught)
Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt  (never taught)
The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare  (never taught)
Nothing But the Truth by Avi
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred Taylor

High School-- 9th-10th grade---focus on American Literature

A Separate Peace by John Knowles (never taught)
Long Days Journey into Night by Eugene O'Neill  (never taught)
My Antonia by Willa Cather
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville

11th-12th grade--focus on European Literature

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen  (never taught)
The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka  (had students in prior years do as Independent Study)
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Hamlet by William Shakespeare
Medea by Euripides

A year and a half into N's middle school....and thinking ahead to G

I don't regret allowing N to apply to her middle school.  She has been happy there.  Her grades are good.  No problems at all of which to speak.

Sure, there have been some minor annoyances....like what I consider excessive busy-work in Social Studies, but I think I would probably end up being annoyed with Jesus himself.  I am fairly easily annoyed with minor issues.

However, after having subbed at both N's school and our resides middle school, I feel about 98% confident that G will not follow in his sister's footsteps (we don't actually know yet whether his AP scores would even allow him to do so, but even if they are at or near or above her scores, I don't intend for him to apply to her middle school).

I have subbed a couple of times at N's school, and I subbed on Thursday at our resides middle school, where I would have preferred that N attend for a number of reasons.  The first reason is that the building is one level with wide hallways. Secondly, we have transportation by bus to our resides school.  Thirdly, there are AP classes at both schools.  She applied to an "optional liberal arts program" of which I have seen zero benefit.  I don't mind shlepping her back and forth for three years for participation in something "special."  But shlepping her back and forth without any evidence of anything special has grown annoying.

I had been eager to sub at our resides middle school so that I could see first hand how the show operates.

Now I fully recognize that subbing at any school doesn't make me an expert on that school, but I do think being a sub gives a person a better indication of what "really" goes on that just visiting on a school tour or at an Open House.  Being a certified teacher substitute with middle school experience also gives me a different picture because I am talked to with a different level of "insider understanding."  (This could be completely off-the-mark, but that is the impression I get.)  Plus, I've walked the walk and remember what goes on in middle school hallways on a full-time basis.

My impression from these limited subbing experiences is that my daughter's school doesn't really deserve the stellar reputation it has gained.

The teachers are fine.  I have no qualms with the instruction.  People at all of the schools have been personable.  In terms of bells and whistles (teams and activities), my daughter's school is great.

But the behavior issues at her school were worse than the behavior issues I've seen at the three other middle schools (including one in Portland, which many suburban white parents would deem the 7th ring of hell simply because of where it is in the city).  When I have subbed at these middle schools, N's was the only one in which kids outright bucked me, and my de-escalation approaches did not work.  (I work very hard to keep from calling SRT, and I had to call SRT at her school a couple times or literally march someone out of my class and into the AP's office.)

The reason I'm writing about this is because there has been a long (and hopefully waning) dialogue about CrMS (N's school) being all that and a bag of chips and CaMS being bad.  It is part of the reason I stewed mightily about where to send N to middle school.

N is a laid back kid who isn't fazed by much.  She wanted to go to CrMS and has been happy, although any number of her friends actually go to CaMS, so I know she would have been just as happy there, too (and I wouldn't have to shlep her back and forth for three years).

G, however, is a high-strung kid who is fazed by things he shouldn't be fazed by.  To put him in an environment like N's middle school is a recipe for disaster as far as I'm concerned.  I think he would be much better served in a smaller, drastically less crowded environment, with wider hallways, that may not have the "bells and whistles" but will provide him with an equally good education.

I'm still not back to normal

Let me preface this post by saying I am not suicidal.  I have no plans to kill myself.

But I admit I have been thinking a lot about not existing anymore.  I have felt very overwhelmed, and there is something that comforts me in knowing that at some point, I will be free from consciousness.  I do not remember my life before my birth, and I expect death will be similar.  There will come a point when none of this will matter.

It really makes me look at the whole scrapbooking thing as a bit of a time-waster.

(My kids might care about my scrapbooks a little, but their kids won't, and their kids won't.  It will all eventually be garbage.  I admit this is not a hopeful outlook on life, but that is how my brain works.)

I am still angrier than I should be, perhaps.  I think what I am most angry about now is that I feel like I can't trust media outlets for news.  Am I reading real news or fake news?  Should I do my due diligence and read 26 other news articles to corroborate the news that I just read?

I feel a lot like I did when I had gestational diabetes and every single bite of food I put in my mouth was analyzed and scrutinized and very much not enjoyed.  That feels a lot like trying to be a responsible person who keeps up with world events right now.

I have lurked a bit on Facebook, and posted a couple things via Instagram, but I find it a little troubling how quickly everyone went from election elation/agony to posting photos of dinners.  Of course, at the same time, whenever someone I know does post something political, I feel my chest tighten up because I'm wondering about the validity of information in the post and what lens they are viewing things from and what source they got the info from and whether they skew left or right or whatever.

Suffice it to say, social media right now is not my friend.

Substitute teaching would be a good distraction if it wasn't so damned depressing at times.  I am often subbing with kids whose lives are chaotic and the stuff of which nightmares are made.  Kids who have been getting their education in the midst of being in a treatment facility for depression or other more difficult and complicated psychological issues.  Kids who flee their homes in the middle of the night because a parent comes in and starts whooping up on them.

I have been submerged in my little middle-class cocoon for many years and forgotten.  I guess it has been good for me to be around middle schoolers who don't read as well as my first grader.  It makes me thankful for my own life and determined to make whatever positive difference I can make in their lives.

But it is not much....that difference.  And that is when I take a deep breath, think about my future freedom from consciousness, feel a wash of comfort at my trivial place in this world, feel a wash of sadness at my trivial place in this world, and continue (somehow) plugging along.