I am sure your day was swell, and perhaps things couldn't get more perfect. Your students were beyond brilliant-they were inspired. The adults around you made intelligent choices and the administrative team was the intregal cog that kept your school day flowing smoothly. Yeah, yeah, hip hip hurray for you.
If you weren't as fortunate as I was, being that this is my reality every single waking day, let me bring a little cheer in this season of giving. The season of giving standardized test after test, the kind of giving you do until it hurts. I will let you decide what my lesson or moral of today's saga shall be on your own...make your own inferences and generalizations...
Well, I guess it is Wednesday. I can never be quite sure as the middle of the week gets all jumbled with me-could be anywhere between Tuesday and Thursday. We all know the only days that really matter are Monday and Friday anyways, and even then, for opposite reasons.
At any rate, whatever day it is, one thing was certain--I was in for another long day of standardized testing. Yesterday it was math, today it was reading. I could barely contain myself. I was so excited, that at morning assembly this morning, I decided to share my glee with a nearby 3rd grader. Too bad they are too young to fully appreciate sarcasm. One of my students turned to the 3rd grade kid, who was suckered into my story, and announced that I was being sarcastic, and that I really meant the opposite of what I was saying. That's right, ladies and gents. Enroll your kiddos in room 312 so that they can take full advantage of Sarcasm 101. Come in dim, leave my room sassy and sophisticated and learned (learn-ed!).
It can only go uphill from here. After getting into all the chills and thrills of testing, all I can do is pace. When all you can do is circle your room and stare down your children, your mind has time to wander to all sorts of special places. I started noticing things about my room I had never noticed before. What are all these pipes on the ceiling for? What does that cable connect to? I didn't know my shelf at one time had cabinet doors, but I notice them, stacked on top of my teacher closet. In my head, I am organizing the kids into groups for spring cleaning of the classroom. At the same time, I am trying to will Larry into focusing on his test with my thought waves.
I feel sort of like I am in a hospital. I am pacing with anxiety, and only authorized personnel can enter the rooms. Parents can't even come in. Neither can the custodians. I am wondering to myself what happens if a kid just barfs all over the room, who has to clean it up? I step out for breaks, and primary teachers try to cheer me on and prop me up while I wonder about the enigma that is KIS. I know, that was random, but pacing makes you think random things.
Speaking of KIS, this would be a great time to tell you all more about her, being that I am all about the cheer, and KIS is obviously brimming with it. KIS stands for Keep It Simple, a phrase she uses way too much, and my teammates and I refer to her as KIS. At any rate, I am the anti-KIS. Let me paint a picture. Please don't get offended. I am sure you all know someone like this at your school.
KIS is like a million years old. Well, maybe not that old, but she is old enough to be my mother. Let me fix that. There is nothing wrong with aging-we all do it-but she is so....."vibrant" that I thought she was much older than she really is. Actually, she's younger than my mom, but I guess life has been rough on her. At any rate, she has been teaching in the same room for as long as I have been alive. AS LONG AS I HAVE BEEN ALIVE! I don't mean teaching for that long, I literally mean teaching in the same d**n room. Papers on the wall are all faded, cause it is the same song and dance year after year. She hoards materials and doesn't share, she has chains and locks on her cabinets in her classroom (her cabinet doors are still intact, by the way). She may speak, but most of the time she won't. Any attempt at communication from her I consider a miracle. She's like that old uncle that stays in his room and everyone is surprised when he comes out and talks. Forget collaboration! I can barely get her to acknowledge that I exist. Her poor kids are so starved for interaction. They don't seem to know how to act with the rest of 4th grade, being that they get so isolated. My kids are always doing things with the other 4th grade class, so the rest of 4th grade is close knit. It is 4th grade...and then KIS. She once saved her teacher self report to the school shared server and no one could change the template because of her. Administration lets her get away with murder because, well, I am not really sure. You just don't cross her. Don't you just love her already?
Well, of course, she decided to take her kids to lunch before my class again today. For that matter, she even beat my other teammate, who actually is scheduled to go to lunch first. And to continue in the theme of giving, I guess her boys gave the lunch monitors a hard time, because as I sat in the teacher's lounge, eating my lunch (2 things I rarely do-a) sit in the teacher's lounge and b) sit down to eat my lunch during my actual lunch period as opposed to while I am planning) they all got escorted out of the cafeteria. She is something else. And then her kids are rude to the other 4th grade kids in the bilingual class, and what does she do? Yeah. I guess I shouldn't raise my expectations...
Feeling warm and fuzzy yet? Well, let me warm your soul some more. Well, during a break, I discover that 4th grade is scheduled to give an end of the year benchmark in science tomorrow. I think that is brilliant. We have tested back to back Tuesday and Wednesday, why not test the kids again on Thursday just for the hell of it? Administration won't budge on the issue, no matter how much I beg. I feel like hitting myself in the head with a brick. I then realize it is payday, and the embers in my crushed soul ignite with hope again. I then open my check and a small part of me cries inside. I look at Bill day in and out for THIS? It is a good thing I love the children, seriously. Between the awesome adults and NCLB, I seriously considered getting into my car and just driving away this afternoon. I could picture it all: I get into my car, turn on the tape deck (I don't even have a tape deck) and that 80's synth pop music fade on. I put on a pair of dark glasses, light a cigarette (again, I don't even smoke) and sinisterly gaze into my rear view mirror. I peel out of the teacher's parking lot and drive off into the sunset (yeah, I know at that point it was like high noon and the sun was far from setting, but work with me here). By now the music is in full blast, and I have tossed the cigarette butt out the window (so much for Don't Mess With Texas). The credits start rolling and I am driving so fast that my car is now taking flight off the ground, the wheels have folded underneath , and I am still driving on... I wonder what kind of testing error/irregularity that would have been?
I am now convinced that your heart is touched, and that I can move you no more for the time being. I did make it to 3:30, and I went out and bought Grand Theft Auto IV. I am now about to serve up some serious punishment for this whole day electronically.
(BTW, I had an actual orange today and one of my kids hid it briefly)