Out With The Old

In with what, I don't know. Things sure are dicey out there. As far as I'm concerned, 2007 has worn out its welcome. What 2008 will bring is anyone's guess. The current events of the country, the world, makes my job even harder. My students are grappling with reality and struggling to accept the way the world is. Who can blame them? Many are bitter, resentful, in denial. They want to know why "we" screwed things up so bad. Of course, most realize that they will have to go out into this world and make lives for themselves, but they also know it won't be easy. And they are scared. And so am I.

I Hope It Was Merry

It has not been a white Christmas here in the City. I can't remember the last one. At least the days are crisp and sunny, the nights freezing and still. A winter without snow can be quite depressing. We need snow. Without it, the flowers and trees don't get the moisture, a slow drip, not torrential pour, of a nice blanket of snow. Without snow, the bugs, especially mosquitoes, are given more time to multiply and then summer, forget about it. West Nile, spraying; I itch just thinking about it. Snow days are non-existent in the City. All of the surrounding areas have already had a few of them, but not us. I thought my television had died, but I was able to fix it myself. Since I didn't have to ask Santa for a TV, I asked for at least one snow day. So far, nothing. Can't hurt to ask.

It's taken a few days to slow the engine down. I went from hyper to crashed in 72 hours. The fatigue is washing over me, slowly but surely. Rest is a good thing. I'll think about grading and writing exams...tomorrow.

Ho, Ho, Ho

I'm somewhat neurotic when it comes to counting down the days to winter break. I begin talking about it late September and by Thanksgiving I am marking it off on the calendar in my classroom. I talk about it, aim for it, more than any of my students. It's not that students aren't excited about having 15 days away from school, but they look at me like I'm a little bit crazy when I walk into the classroom and say, "Twenty-one school days to go." I don't count weekends. This year was particularly strange because October didn't exist and one day it was November 1st and then it was the 30th. I told them the time would fly. And it has.

The ringing in my ears is beginning to die down. The ever present din of teenage voices: Booming bass from the mouths of big boys, boys too big for our little school. High-pitched whines from the pretty little girls trying to talk over the boys. Somehow, their voices cut through. Determined to be heard. That's the key. I'm resting my ears with the sounds of Joni Mitchell and the soundtrack from "Once." Slowly, my equilibrium is righting itself.