Week 4

I'm pleased to say that it's 11:30 pm and I'm nearly ready for bed. The truth is, I'll never be ready for bed. There's always more I could be doing. We just finished around of assessments and my kids aren't doing well. Which means I'm not doing well. I'll be the first (and third and sixth and tenth) to point out the numerous structural challenges that are thrust upon us by Teach For America that get in the way of us making big strides with our students. But those are fixed and there's more that we can be doing within those limits. I hate that our learning process happens at the expense of the kids in my class. I suppose it's not unlike a teaching hospital -- the patients are getting supervised care, but maybe not the best care in the world. Then again, maybe I'm being too hard on myself.

I'm staring Week 4 in the face. Last week was hell week and there were honestly times when I didn't think I'd make it. It's been a long time since I've felt that way about anything. And I know there are challenges around the corner; some I know very well, others that will leap out of dark alleys and catch me unaware.

We just got a new student late last week. He was moved out of his classroom next door and dropped off in ours a day later by the security guard. This student made written threats of violence towards his classmate so they felt it best that he be moved. Funny thing is, they neglected to tell us. We had to ask to find out what the deal was. Nice. I'm doing everything I can to get this kid on my side. He's older and bigger than the rest of the kids because he's been held back a couple times. He says he wants to be a SWAT team member, so I'm using that as a hook to redirect his poor choices. If I can get him on board, the rest of the class will be easy to manage. They implicitly look up to him. He's the lynchpin.

So, onwards and upwards to Week 4. Time's running out and I feel like I've never quite done enough. But, off to bed nonetheless.

My Dearest Friday,

Friday. Dear Friday. You've been with me every step of the way. Every seven days, no matter what's happening in my life. You're there. Dependable. The thing is, I haven't appreciated you until now. It took 19-hour days with only 90 minutes off to eat dinner for me to realize how important you really are to me. When you're not here, I think of you every other day (except Saturday and most of Sunday...but I know you understand). It pains me that you are so far away right now. Five days to be more exact. Five long days full of teaching crazy 4th graders and sitting through endless workshops and writing lesson plan after lesson plan. And just when I think I can't take no more, there you are. Waiting for me. Just like always. I don't know what I would do without you.