Margaritas and Cheese

It's one day away from Spring Break, and boy am I behaving accordingly.

It all started when standardized testing ended last week. On the drive home, I decided I wanted a margarita to go (sometimes I like living in BR) and some chips and queso. The chips and queso were party sized, but I somehow worked my way through the whole thing.

When I'm at work, it doesn't help that I'm in the library a lot. I am there by force sometimes because Leah and her class "float" in my room on my main off period, but I also technically have "duty."

Today Ms. M gave me scrambled eggs, bacon, grits, and half a biscuit because they ordered a huge amount from a Chevron (it was only one order for $3.50 or something, but it fed four people). One of the math teachers on the first floor picked it up. She knows how to get good home cooked food from gas stations--I didn't know such a thing existed. There are all these little unnamed spots for barbeque, chicken, and breakfast.

I don't get a lot of work done in the library because it's sort of the bus station of the school--students and teachers flow in and out all day and I end up talking to half of them. Students check out books and use the computers constantly, which is different from other high schools I've seen. They sneak out on unsuspecting substitutes...to the library! If Ms. B and Ms. M close the doors, those fools knock on the glass (mostly because they need to print out their essays at the last minute and then leave their jump drives by accident). If they finish a test in my class, they beg me to go to the library. They cheer when I tell them we're having a library day (in which they go for about twenty minutes to check out books and take AR quizzes. Some of them just hang out and play, though, which is a big reason why they like it).

(When I was student teaching in Brusly, no one used the library except to play on the internet. The teachers shopped for shoes on their planning periods. The librarian herself said "these kids don't like books.")

I've been hanging out in the library a lot and not getting any planning and grading done (well, not as much as I'd like). I'm at the point in the year (I hope that's the reason) where I'm almost coasting--52/90 research papers done, reading Much Ado about Nothing with tenth grade and starting To Kill a Mockingbird with ninth. When we're working on a big piece of literature, it feels like coasting.

I...think I'm doing a good job. Everybody's awake and engaged. The ninth graders could tell me all about Romeo and Juliet by the time we finished it (even though they didn't do very well on their tests). The tenth graders are asking tons of questions and laughing during our readings, and I make them get up and act it out.

I've been giving multiple choice tests only. I'm all graded out. I wonder if we've done enough writing this year. One of my girls in seventh hour (after GEE testing) said, "Ms. W, your 3 reasons and thesis thing really works." I know I've done a lot of grammar and usage, at least--I didn't even teach usage my first two years.

Mostly I feel like I'm done--I feel like I've taught them, and now we're coasting. I'm enjoying them a lot lately because we're really comfortable by this point. I played Uno with seventh hour last week after testing--they were playing and I was supposed to be grading, but they invited me to join them. They are an especially hilarious, kind, and interesting group of kids--more so than my other periods, because they're silly and not afraid to look uncool. It's nice to see them at the end of every day, and we have a lot of class jokes--they make me laugh genuinely every time I see them.

For instance, I've got this boy in there, H--he's pretty special--who passed ME a note today asking me to explain certain lines in Act one. I was sitting in the back of the room on a soft chair, level with the kids--my room's really tiny so we're all squished in--and I'm in the middle of reviewing a scene with them, and this girl G hands me the note and whispers "This is from H." (Mind you, H is the same kid that wrote text on a scantron explaning a true/false answer.) I cracked up laughing and said, "Did you just pass a note to me?"

But there's this nagging voice--maybe it's Dr. G's tough love reminders ringing in my head--that keeps coming back. I have more to give them before they leave me--I need to push them in the ways that they look at their own lives and societies. Have I been copping out or avoiding talking about race? About groupthinking, and anti-intellectualism? What does Much Ado have to do with their own lives? Sure, it exposes them to Shakespeare's language before they get to college--sure, it's a fun story.

It sounds crazy, but I constantly wonder if I'm failing them in some way. I'm tired and I've done a lot with them. My department head said I just need to focus on making it to May and stop thinking I need to do more.

I'm afraid if I let that sink in too much that I'll be on autopilot and the kids won't learn anything, but maybe I just need to do an adequate job and leave and go home and be happy. Maybe being a decent teacher is good enough.

I need a vacation. And I need to finish grading those research papers.