Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Required: Summer/Fall

I am still a stubborn ass. I am still uninterested in my graduate work. I am still displeased with public “education.” What does that even mean?! I am much more convinced that underserved kids are getting a raw deal, whammied from all sides: poor parenting, awful teaching, inconsistent and powerless administration, turn-the-other-cheek legislation, and insufficient funding. I still don’t believe that a first year teacher should put his or her head in the sand and forget about the big picture. Consider this an affront to the August reunion debate and the “you’re not social reformers” standby, or the “one child at a time” mantra. I cannot wait until next year! (When I – hypothetically – have more time to address these issues, to attend PTSA meetings, to confront administrators and teachers more directly, to wear my heart on my sleeve.) As is, I’ve founded 2.5 after school clubs, and have an extremely workable classroom environment. We’ll tweek the hell out of it after New Years, but this is working out just fine…

I was more “me” during the summer. I had a personality that didn’t need to be edited. I often wonder why I now have a job that doesn’t allow me to say “fuck it” or “shitacatsass” when moved to. I am not fully satisfied being a classroom teacher. Too much investment for too little return. All of me is poured into this “project” that only I understand, and 30 years later I might get a faux-gold watch. Highs and lows. Manic.

My summer blogs are me: impudent and bare breasted. This plot-vomit, “here was my day honey” bullshit has been killing my long-distance relationship and sucking the spark from my soul. Sarah tells me to read Emerson every day. She knows me. This… fuck it. I don’t care enough to keep writing about this fucking prompt…

Everything I wrote over the summer sparked of life and invention and an eagerness to live and to learn. What’s left of me now? At the end of a day of work except stories that are only interesting to me?