Relief

With the struggles of working in middle school have come a prayer to the universe: "Okay, Universe, I know I'm supposed to learn something from this experience. I know that I need to change my own perspective so that I can find peace. So, dammit, help me find some peace here in a job I don't really enjoy..."

On Thursday, the Universe gave me my answer. The solution to the frustration and disappointment and exhaustion of working in a capacity that made me feel inadequate and unhappy? Don't work there anymore.

Huh, that was simple.

During 4th period prep on Thursday, the one administrator at the school with whom I have no relationship walked in and told me that my last day would be Friday. At first I was shocked and devastated. I've grown attached to many of the students. I've been working really hard to turn around the ones I find difficult and defiant. I've tried to adjust from a high school mentality to a middle school one. His only response to my sobbing questions was that, they'd "decided to go in a different direction" and were "looking for a different fit."

I called Plans, crying (sobbing really), and was met with the baffled but true statement: "But you hate this job." So why was I so upset?

I was hurt. I felt like I must've done something wrong or not done enough somethings right. I felt like this must reflect on my ability as a teacher. I felt like a failure.

But then my afternoon class came in. And they were difficult and unruly, as always. And I started to think, "wow, after tomorrow I don't have to deal with them any more." And my body felt a little lighter. Many months ago I blogged about starting another long-term sub position and the nervousness I felt before I walked into the classroom. Nervousness that immediately gave way to confidence as soon as the students walked in and I realized that I am meant to be a high school teacher. I never got that feeling in this job as an 8th grade teacher. I never felt like I was getting a handle on things. I never felt like it got easier or I got any better at it. I left school every day feelings overwhelmed and exhausted.

Last winter I picked up A Return to Love, a book that sounds like a relationship self-help manual but is really a book that has helped me gain perspective and balance in all part of my life. I read the sections on understanding the self, on choosing love (positivity) instead of fear in life, on fate and on relationships. Every time I read, I felt I was having an epiphany, an awakening, a revelation. But I stopped before the section on work. This experience inspired me to start reading again and this was the first thing I read:

"Success means we go to sleep at night knowing that our talents and abilities were used in a way that served others. We're compensated by ... the magnificent feeling that we did our bit today to save the world... The key to a successful career is realizing that it's not separate from the rest of your life, but is rather an extension of your most basic self."

Exactly! There was only one day during the 6 weeks I spent in this position that I felt successful. (It was the 8th grade field trip and we had left the students with disciplinary issues at home.) Other than that, I knew from the get-go that the career that is an extension of my basic self is teaching high school English. I feel myself in that capacity. I feel excited and invigorated and powerful and magnificent. I feel that I can save the world.

So, after only a day or two of thinking about it, I am relieved to be looking for work again. I am ready to feel successful in a job that is a perfect fit for me.

Plans

Halloween

Happiness

Balance

As I mentioned in the last post, I've been spending some time teaching middle school. The position is covering a teacher who is out on medical leave and could potentially go on for several months beyond the original October-November dates I was given. This is both good and scary. I find the management issues of middle school exhausting with very little of the reward I get from teaching high school. I'm trying - really, I am - to find the positive side of 8th grade so that I don't let this job suck all the energy, positivity, and joy out of me. Most days I just feel drained and defeated by 3:30 and on a couple of occasions I have had to actively stop myself from crying as soon as the kids left. I am meant to be a teacher. I know that. But middle school teachers are saints and I am definitely not a saint. The goal over the next week is to find balance, to adjust my perspective on the situation so that I can gain whatever professional and personal lessons the universe intends for me in this position. The job has been extended beyond the original 7 weeks - that must mean I haven't learned the lessons I was meant to yet. Okay, Universe, bring it on. I'm ready.

Teaching in general is good, though. I'm teaching Language Arts and History, a first for me. I never knew so much about early American history in my life. It's kind of fun since it's a subject I actually enjoy but never have explored with students before. I'm also getting a more in-depth background of teaching grammar than I've had before. Plus the bright side of teaching middle school? No one ever mistakes me for a student on campus. And the lesson planning is straight forward. And I get to go on a field trip next week. And it's a consistent paycheck. Bright side. Bright side. Bright side.

Everything else in my life seems to be in place and splendid and wonderful. Family is great. I feel healthy. I have great friends and I get to see them regularly. (Or at least some of them.)

And Plans. I have Plans. And Plans makes me feel so calm and positive and optimistic and happy that I can't even explain it. Plans is easy and makes me feel like everything that frustrates me or confuses me or worries me will just work out because that's the way it should be. Plans makes me excited for the future. Plans makes me feel hopeful. I always thought, when I was out there in the world trying to make it happen and trying to force something where there was nothing, that it really shouldn't be so hard. I knew, intuitively deep down, that it was supposed to feel easy (at least at the beginning). And it is. Plans proves that for me. It's just easy. And it has been easy since the beginning. It just works. That's the way it's supposed to be. What else could I ask for?

Time Change

I've been teaching 8th grade social studies for the past 6 weeks and have realized more than ever before that 13 year-olds have absolutely ZERO sense of time. (Or consequence. But that's another story.) Common questions I've gotten while teaching about the American Revolution:

Me: So you see, these rules in the colony of Massachusetts are still laws in the state of Massachusetts.

Student: Wait! So you mean things that happened, like, a million years ago are still affect us now?!?!?!?!

Me: ::blank stare::... Well... yes, but... this was only, like, 250 years ago.

Student: Isn't that the same thing??

Me: George Washington was only about 30 years old when he took control of the Continental Army -

Student: 30? Isn't that, like, really really old??

Me: ::blank stare:: Nooo.....

Me: So the Americans and British couldn't have battles during the winter because their gunpowder would get wet and so the guns wouldn't fire.

Student: Couldn't they just use bombs?

Other Student: Or missiles?

Yet Another Student: Or tanks?

Me: They didn't have any of those things.

Student: Why? Were they poor?

Me: No, they hadn't been invented yet.

Student: Well, if I were there I would've invented bombs.

Me: ::blank stare::

WOW.

Sailors

At Nordstrom's Rack over the weekend...

Mom: Sarah, come here. Aren't these pants cute?

Me: Yeah, way cute. But I already have sailor pants and a person really only needs one pair.

Mom: That's true. (pause) Unless you're a sailor.

Me: ... (why didn't I think of that?)

Daunting

New day, new struggle. I have now told far too many people that I have started work on a novel. (If I hadn't already told you, well, I guess now you know...) But getting back into the saddle of writing isn't quite as easy as I'd expected. You know that saying "it's like riding a bicycle..."? Well it turns out that does not apply to everything. I sit in front of my computer screen or with my journal and a pen and sometimes the words come out no problem. But other times... It's like picking my French Horn up after not playing for 7 years - both entirely familiar and entirely foreign.

I have overwhelmed myself now. I find the whole process daunting, to be honest, because I want so badly to do it well.

Problems I am faced with on the particular project I have chosen? There are several.

I have envisioned a sort of Sex in the City set in San Diego with 5 female characters based on the most consistent members of my book club. This puts my potential novel squarely in the "Chick Lit" category - a genre that is stereotypically formulaic and unrealistic. I can accept that to an extent, but since my characters are based on real people that I really care about I do not want to turn any of them into caricatures. However, the characters are still fiction and need to be separated from their real-life counterparts. But how much should be fiction, how much non-fiction?

Problem #1: How do I give the characters recognizable features of a real person without attributing every neurosis of that person to fiction?

Problem #2: Defining the scope and goals of the novel as a whole. Even in flitty, awful chick lit there are always a few key issues that are neatly wrapped up by the end. Right now I have a series of personality traits and singular events, but I'm still brainstorming the ways to pull those things together into one cohesive narrative. You can't sell a novel that is just a collection of random experiences between girlfriends, even if the dialog IS witty and insightful.

Problem #3: Defining each character's individual "voice" so that we don't overlap. So often in this type of novel the way that authors get around this problem is by categorizing their characters into predetermined archetypes - the bitch, the disapproving one, the pretty boy, the gay best friend, the slutty/flirtatious coworker. I really don't want my characters to be so superficial that someone could write a facebook quiz about them like they do about Sex in the City: "OMG! I'm such a Carrie!"

So I'm following the most common recommendation I've gotten so far: Read. Read everything in the genre. Readreadread. And now suddenly everything I would do normally has become "research." The characters go to the gym and the movies and out to clubs and bars and get hit on by ridiculous men and sexy men and nervous men. The characters make great decisions concerning their careers and stupid decisions concerning relationships. Or vice versa. They talk to each other - a lot. (Be on alert, oh girlfriends mine, my ears are perked up for good dialog.)

And now, sigh, I must return to either writing or reading and stop using my blog as an avoidance tool.

Summer = Unorganized Thoughts

Went to see Julie & Julia over the weekend, the movie about Julia Child and a fan who spent a year cooking all 500+ recipes in her cookbook over the course of one year and then wrote a blog about it. Best line from the movie: "I could write a blog. I have thoughts."

Also saw (500) Days of Summer twice in the past week. Completely head-over-heels in love with the movie. So real and sad and hopeful at the same time. I connected. I want Tom as my new boyfriend. And I wish I had the courage to do karaoke.

So far (no surprise) there are no prospects for teaching jobs this year. I'm not sure if the reason the England thing hasn't happened is because I have a weak resume or because the economic situation across the pond is just as difficult as it is here, maybe worse (I prefer to assume the latter option), but either way I'm not really disappointed. Moving is a big deal for me. I'm not going to pick up my whole life and leave my entire support system for just any job - it has to be a unique opportunity to grow.

I continue looking for teaching work close to home but the prospects are bleak. In the meantime I needed something to keep my head going so that I don't completely lose it, so I've started writing again. It's been interesting getting back into it after so long. It feels like reconnecting with a lost friend. I know how to do this - write a novel? I've done it before. But at the same time it feels entirely new and scary. I'm a different writer now because I'm a different person now. The expectations - both mine and others' - are different, higher somehow. When you write as a teenager, nobody really takes it seriously so if it's awful, that's okay. But I'm supposed to know what I'm doing now. Even though I majored in Literature, not writing, and even though I teach high schoolers how to read books, not write them.

Did a single build day with Habitat San Diego this week. It was nice to be on a build site again, nice to feel like I'm doing something helpful and productive, nice to have completely sore muscles for the next two days. But it wasn't the same. I have to do another global village trip. Soon.

Juliet

I was telling this story the other day and thought it would make a funny entry...

Last year when my 9th graders were reading Romeo and Juliet I had a student ask a rather peculiar question. We had read the scene including Romeo & Juliet's wedding during class the previous day and then watched a clip of the 1996 film with Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. My student, a 14-year-old girl, asked out of the blue, "Did they have condoms in Romeo and Juliet's time?"

Me: Excuse me?

Student: Did they have condoms back then?

Me: No, I don't think they did.

Student: So Juliet's pregnant.

Me: Excuse me?

Student: She's pregnant.

Me: Why do you say that?

Student: Well they had sex.

Me: Well it is not stated directly in the play, but they got married, yes, so we can assume...

Student: So she's pregnant.

It may be important to mention that I knew at the time that this particular student's mother had just had a large 30th birthday celebration (yes - do the math), so I wasn't exactly keen on telling her that people don't necessarily get pregnant every time they have sex, but what was I supposed to do? I definitely considered lying and saying that yes, Juliet was absolutely preggo and that just proves how important contraception is, but I think I settled on something along the lines of, "You should really discuss that with your health teacher when you see him tomorrow and we'll never really know about Juliet because she dies before anyone even knows she's married!"

Teenagers makes the strangest leaps of understanding...