As Much As I Know Right Now

I don't write about my job much on this blog, mostly because I'm paranoid (or not) that the "powers that be" would find it and use it against me in some way. They (the two men in charge of our building) love to use things against us, it's their favorite. And they love to write things, leave paper surveillance trails in your files and they love to be inconsistent and arbitrary with students and staff alike. I guess it's just "power" gone to their heads. Non-tenured hires cower before them. A union rep told me long ago that the admin at our school give preference to tiny women with blonde hair. So you can see what we're dealing with here. But the year is nearly over, kids, and I made it without too many scratches and bruises. I think we have something like 25 days left (there are a lot of people counting, but I never was good at remembering numbers).

One of my classes is full of beautiful ill-behaved ADHD-ridden loveable cast-away boys (my favorite!) who must use every ounce of strength not to explode during the last hour of the day. Yesterday one of the cutest, a kid with a mohawk who is really trying to get good grades (and who doubles as my phone/door answerer and is pretty confident of his ability to beat the crap out of each and every student in the class), exploded forth with a "great idea". "Ms _____! I've got a great idea!" (The organization of parties in the classroom is a recurring preoccupation for this particular hour.) "We could put the desks in an octagon and have ultimate fighting on the last day and whoever wins gets an 'A'!" I must say, it's tempting.

Another wonderfully funky little student stood at the board with a collection of dry erase markers, happily working on a drawing of Yoda and Jar Jar Binks gazing adoringly at each other, hands reaching out and fingers almost touching. It was accompanied by "Romeo and Juliet" conversation bubbles which were filled with the most mushy balcony scene dialogue imaginable.

A third student, who holds the infamous honor of being placed close to my desk through every seating chart change this year, a surfer-dude-bad-behavior-worse-reputation kid who has failed every class this year (but is also one of the smartest dudes in the class), asked if I had any papers he could hand out. I passed him a thick stack, knowing his limits for sitting still had reached maximum tolerance.

The boys like to read Shakespeare aloud. They get a kick out of reading the girls' parts with emotion and funny bad accents. Then they like to have their acting abilities praised with enthusiasm. They like to complain. (Especially the boys. I'm always telling them to "Get a backbone! Act like a girl!" And they, with minimum grumbling, take it pretty well.) The few girls in the class, busily working on the latest assignment, are sometimes oblivious to this exchange.

So, with 25 (or so) days left, I am looking ahead to summer. I will visit Veronica in Florida for a week in June, where she will turn my staid life upside down with late nights, intimate conversation, romping days on the beach and blenders full of "wackos". After that I intend to occupy myself with the most practical of matters. The house needs a new roof. I think I will create stone walkways in the garden. I want to work with my hands.

I don't want to talk (as much). Ideas and dreams that used to occupy my consciousness no longer interest me (as much). I'm not so lost in the pursuit of happiness, not as preoccupied with thought, or the idea that my thoughts are important (as much). I have abandoned the idea of being special. I'm not searching for anything, or anyone (as much). When I am alone, living simply, I tell myself, everything will fall into place.