SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW

Ack.

Writing this at school. Hoping to get out of here in t-minus several seconds.

Well: I am nervous. But I LOVE that I am here for year 2 instead of year 1. And you know what--? I am LUCKY to be here, working, doing what I love. I don't take that for granted. As stressful as these moments are, it's so good to remember that this is a big, fat blessing.

I created this Facebook album called "Thank You Notes," and most of the pictures are just pictures I've taken on walks or with friends. Underneath each picture, I've written a "thank you" for what the picture is of, like, "Thank you for ice cream on hot summer days." "Thank you for roses that are perfectly in bloom." "Thank you for slow lazy mornings with my roommate."

I created the album on a whim, but it's influenced my psyche in a really cool way-- every time I take a picture now, I think of what the caption would be if it was in the "Thank You Notes" album.

Tonight, looking around my decorated classroom, I think, "Thank you for my view of the courtyard. Thank you for art on the walls. Thank you for the pictures from my road trip. Thank you for working computers, and for the names on my class lists. Thank you that tomorrow I'll be able to start RECOGNIZING these kids. Thank you for my full file drawers that are packed with the resources I created last year. Thank you for a big class room. Thank you that I get to do what I love."

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Pictures to come later, once the kids contribute to what's on the walls. Right now, I'm savoring the moment for myself. In this harried, frenzied, tired, stressed moment-- there is succulent thanks to savor.

Two Days Down

178 to go.

The first day went GREAT. And the point that I'd been most worried about-- my demeanor-- was what I felt best about. I'd felt so worried that I would try to be either TOO "buddy buddy," or that I would overcompensate and try to come across as a war general, which would be fun for no one-- least of all me. I'd prayedprayedprayed about the first day demeanor, and hooray, I felt like I was just what I was supposed to be: firm, articulate, and warm. When kids engaged in side chatter, I either gave them "THE LOOK," or called them out. 6th period has been called out several times. Both yesterday and today, I had to have a "Come to Jesus" moment where I said firmly, no really, I DON'T LIKE SIDE CHATTER. 6th period (which I'm pretty sure will be this year's 5th period) is an especially rambunctious group of Seniors. They've been together for 13 years; they know each other incredibly well, and I'm the new kid. Plus, the teacher last year was incredibly popular; why should they respect this new chick that they know nothing about, whose main distinguishing characteristic at this point is NOT being Mr. Johnson? Also, Seniors are just tricky I think. They're old enough to think they know everything, but not old enough to realize they don't.

Still: I had all kinds of rambunctious, hard kids last year. I can win these kids, right? All day Thursday will be spent at a retreat. My mission: have real conversations with the harder ones. It was only by forming relationships with my hard kiddos last year that I won them over onto "my side." Right now, I'm focusing on obtaining their respect, and being consistent with precedents. Winning their affection can come later.

I'm so tired, by the way.

I have STACKS of summer reading essays to read through. Also first-day freewrites. Also tests.

My goal is to leave school by 6:00 every night: trying to get as much grading done by then as possible, and then, I'm supposed to TAKE OFF. And be DONE. The only problem is, yesterday and today have both necessitated lots of conversations with other teachers, and random house cleaning stuff after school... It's 4:42, and I haven't even started on the piles yet.

Also, I'm blogging.

I needed to decompress.

Bottom line: God is good, and it's going well. I'm having a blast with my Sophomores. I totally freaked out my AP kids, which I love. I've got THEM on the ropes!! They're going to be a great group. My other class of Seniors is fine-- it's really just that 6th period that will be a handful, I think. But I feel like I know what to do with them.

Or in any case, He does. And we're in communication.

Too tired to end with a witty addendum. Check ya later, bloggies.

The Eve

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow: I will face down one hundred students, divided into five different classes, as their teacher. Tomorrow, I will give students syllabi that I have spent hours writing, which describe texts and units spanning the entire year. Tomorrow, I will ask them to introduce themselves, and I will introduce myself to them. Tomorrow, these students will see my classroom-- they will see the art on the walls that I selected to stimulate their thinking; they will see the world map that I've hung with pins stuck in the places that I've been, with more pins at the ready for them to stick in the cities they've traveled to. Tomorrow, they will see the vocabulary words that have been hung in a border around the room, and they will see the sign I made that says, "You must learn the rules before you can break them," flanked on one side by the Mona Lisa, and on the other, by a cubist Picasso portrait. Tomorrow, I will show them the hockey stick that I've turned into a hall pass, and I will tell them sternly that they must be so tender with the hall pass. Tomorrow, they will sit in the desks that I've meticulously arranged in a circle formation, and they will listen as I review the syllabi via a Powerpoint with silly pictures to accompany the various points.

Tomorrow, they will be my students, and I will be their teacher.

Tomorrow, I will pretend that I've completed the summer reading assignments of "Crime and Punishment," and "Mere Christianity," instead of telling them the truth: that I was frantically scanning Sparksnotes the night before, trying to catch myself up on all major points. Tomorrow, I will smile, and give my Senior AP students the reading cards that were fashioned by a former teacher, requiring them to identify the novel's symbols, motifs, tones, syntax structure, diction style, genre, and so on-- many terms which I still feel shaky on myself. Tomorrow, if they ask me to explain what I mean by identifying the novel's "syntax," I will glibly say, "We'll go over all these terms later. For now, I'd like to see what terms you're comfortable with and what you're still unsure about. Think of this as a pretest. Do your best; we'll go over all of these later this week."

Tomorrow, I will get on my knees and pray with determination that God hold to His promise that in my weakness, He will be strong, and also well informed about literary analysis.

Tomorrow, I will wear a navy blue pencil skirt, a pink blouse, tan boots, and a thick brown belt around my waist.

Tomorrow, I will give my fellow English teachers boxes of tea, because English teachers love tea, and because I want to show them that I am thankful and excited to teach alongside them this year.

Tomorrow, I might get sick to my stomach, which is what my body does when it gets very nervous. But tomorrow, if that happens, I will square my shoulders and breathe into my diaphragm and lift my chin and say, "Good morning folks. Welcome to Senior year," and I will pretend that I never had a previous encounter with the toilet bowl.

(But tomorrow, please God, don't let me get sick WHILE the students are there. Amen.)

Tomorrow, I will meet my kids. I will begin to know their names. I will begin to hear their stories. Tomorrow, I will remember why it is that I LOVE this.

Tomorrow, I will thank God for the miraculous blessing of a job, of supportive co-teachers, of a wonderful principal, and for being in a school that allows me to post my fervent prayer in the form of a Bible verse outside my door. Tomorrow, I will pray for my students, and I will pray that He enables me to teach them as they deserve to be taught.

"Tomorrow" gets over at 3:00 PM. And boy-- tomorrow? That hour just can't come soon enough.