Stupid is as stupid does

C., a boy in my 11th Grade Comp/Lit class, is too smart for high school. Quick-witted, funny, charismatic, with a twinkle in his eye, he doesn't believe in formal education. On the first day of class, he told us, with a very straight face, that he's an illegal Mexican immigrant who was slipped over the border by his coyote uncle, and he plans to stay, drain U.S. resources, use their schools and hospitals, and make sure he keeps Americans from getting jobs. Obviously parodying people who resent Mexican illegals, he was so convincing that we all believed him, until, like Jonathan Swift's Modest Proposal, the satire began to emerge. He's very smart in a street-smarty sort of way.

Today, when the 2:40 bell finally rang, he walked towards the door, and then, to be funny, impulsively stuck an uncoiled paperclip into an electrical socket in the wall. Wasn't that cute? NOT. I'm so worn out by the idiocies of students. He could have electrocuted himself. What he did do was short out my electrical system in the portable. When I left this afternoon, my computer was black and silent. I left feeling depressed. First, I won't have a functioning computer on Monday, which means no projection from the LCD, no attendance, email, or video. This will reduce my ability to deliver instruction. I don't want to imagine how long it might take for the administration to get it fixed. And I'll somehow be blamed for not "watching" him closely enough to keep him from doing this dumb thing.

I'm also depressed that even eleventh grade students, let alone ninth grade ones, have far less sense and manners than my eight-year-old grandson! (I even said that out loud this morning to an air-headed boy in my 1st block class.) He reminds me of Baby Huey. He's colossal sized, built like an NFL linebacker, but has the common sense and work ethic of slug.

Last week, I called a parent to report that a boy named D. was chronically disruptive. I spoke to his mother and she thanked me warmly for keeping her informed. Soon after, my cell phone vibrated. I answered because I was in my planning period. It was D's father, calling from NYC. Having been informed by the mother that D. was misbehaving, he was livid, and I mean out of his mind furious! What assignments was D. missing in class? Was he doing his homework? By God, he wanted to be phoned the next time D. even twitched in class! He would straighten out that boy, you'd better believe! I told him what chapters D. was supposed to read for tomorrow, and he assured me that D. would have every word read. By the time I arrived home that afternoon, I'd had six missed calls from this father. I even began to get scared. I can imagine the effect he has on D. D. stopped in after school a few days later, wearing his ROTC uniform and his ROTC persona, yes-ma'aming me all over the place, using the soft gentlemanly voice, with (phony?) politeness effusing from every pore. Could he make up his missed work? Thank you, Ma'am.

The news is bursting with talk about furloughs, four-day work weeks, teacher lay-offs, and jobs cuts. The field of education is swirling down the drain, nationwide, even at the college level. My Georgia Southern colleagues have been furloughed this year, too, and their insurance premiums have risen dramatically.

Dearest blog, call me crazy with what I'm about to tell you. But I've always had a sense of adventure. (Liberto is the "stable" one, for all that he is the most colorful and outgoing socially. Deep down, he's the conservative one, at least fiscally. I'm the free-spirit, although outwardly I seem more bland.) Despite being officially old, I'm not dead yet, and therefore, I've thought about going back for a degree in a completely different field---some aspect of health care, which doesn't involve blood, guts, or lawsuits. I'm sick of education! I don't think I want to teach in any way, shape or form, ever again. What if I could become an x-ray technician? I've starting researching what it would take to get a two-year degree in a health care field and what I could do with it. Would my age really matter if I were still healthy? Andy Rooney is 91 and doesn't look a day over 75.

Liberto wants me to hang on to my current job for four more years, for the security of the miscroscopic but lifelong TRS pension I'd get after 10 years. I'll probably be let go, so that won't even be an issue. But supposing I had a choice of staying with the school... is it better to stay for the teeny pension at the end of the tunnel, or invest a few years in a new degree now, and (if age discrimination does not stand in my way) earn a good salary for a longer stretch of time? Would a person on a gurney really care if an old crone like me was doing his chest x-ray? Education is going down, but the health care field is one of the few that's growing. As I always say to Liberto, it doesn't cost anything to fantasize and dream.

It's cold again in Savannah again today. I'm tired of cold weather. I can only imagine how my friends in the North feel at this time. We were supposed to drive to Statesboro tomorrow to spend the night at Mark and Terry's but we agreed that we're just too darn tired. The weekends are so short and crowded, it's hard to get everything done in time to begin again on Monday.

President's Day Off

Paul just now ordered me to "go write on your blog for a little while" so that I can have a little me-time before helping him with his Speech that's due later today. I will be filming it, probably several takes. I also have student notebooks piled around the room, and am already in a panic about looking through them in time for tomorrow.

I just walked in the door from another dental appointment. I had to have a three-dimensional scan of my jaw and neck, in preparation for the implants, just to make sure I have enough jaw bone to proceed. Otherwise, I will be getting some kind of stent-implants which stretch the bone for awhile....never mind. The details are too painful. Each time I see the specialist for the steps in the process, he has to remove the permanent bridge which the implants will replace. But oddly, he doesn't have the proper glue to re-cement the bridge into place, so I have to go to my regular dentist to have it cemented in to stay. The specialist has some kind of glop, but it's not a serious cement. But if all goes well, the next procedure will be the implants themselves, in a few weeks. I get some kind of sedative for that, so my nervous nature will be calmed.

Liberto is at Wal-Mart. We both had the day off for President's Day. I love three-day weekends. Some school systems in Georgia are now doing four-day work weeks to save money. The parents who count on the schools as a babysitter hate it, but I can see how the teachers might really like it!

It's a cold, rainy, dreary day. It's supposed to drop to freezing tonight with highs in the 40's tomorrow.

Weekend

The weekend has generated an all's-right-with-the-world feeling. Saturday morning, the snowstorm of the century had evaporated, and the grass was green. Liberto's and Shawn's cars both had a coating of snow on the back window, but it soon melted. Liberto and I went to H& R Block to do the taxes. Although I'd given it a run-through myself, I had under-estimated the refund. We discovered that our new heating/air conditioning unit was also tax deductibe, as well as the new dryer. Between that, and a couple of other deductions the nice lady unearthed, we left knowing that our refund will be much larger than I'd calculated, which pleased us. We rushed back to the Southside so I could get to my hair appointment on time. Two hours later, we headed back to town, with Paul this time, to pick up a cartridge at Staples, stopping at Taco Bell to eat tacos. Next, we went to Publix where Liberto likes to buy his French bread, and of all people, we ran into Phyllis and Mark! It was such a happy surprise. We stood in the aisle, as shoppers squeezed around us, and caught up. Phyllis said she hopes to retire in three years, if she can make it that much longer, because the University is burning out its employees with the huge workload, committee work, and constantly increasing expectations. I told her I, too, am burned out, and may be retiring this year due to budget cuts. It turns out that their beloved dog, Waldo, died the day after Pete died, so we all shed a few tears over our lost pets and the emptiness we feel. After a lovely visit in the Publix aisle, they left to go for a dinner date in Savannah, and Liberto, Paul, and I drove to the mall to buy a few things. It was a busy and fulfilling day, simply because I didn't do any school-related work and managed to get that tension out of my mind.

Late this morning, after our Valentine's gifts to each other, Liberto and I drove to his office so he could make me some giant Word Walls for my classroom on his big engineering machine, whatever it's called. The newest thing at the school is that Administrators want to see Word Walls when they come around for the frequent visits they'll now be paying to all classrooms. My students have new vocab words and vocab quizzes every week, but that's not quite enough; the evidence of this must be displayed on the walls. It's all about appearances. The Administrators have also mandated that the students must learn the Georgia standards and must be able to repeat back to an Administrator what Georgia standards the teachers are teaching that day. In your dreams! But I had Liberto print up some Essential Questions posters, and posters listing all the state standards, lest their presence impress the Administration. I told Liberto that if they're determined to dismiss me, it won't matter what I do. The walls can be covered with words and standards, but if I'm on their S-list, it won't matter. But he insisted.

After the office, we went to the YMCA to exercise. I may have mentioned that the Downtown Athletic Club which Liberto had been going to for 15 years recently closed. He and all the other clients had a strong bond of friendship and collegiality. Liberto soon found out that the City of Savannah is now sponsoring memberships at all the branches of the YMCA for city employees and their families. All his pals from the Athletic Cub are now going to the Y, so we are now members of the Y too. I'm dropping my membership at the other gym in Georgetown. Because of my hours at work, I can't exercise in the mornings, but Liberto now goes to the Y three times a week, just as he went to the Athletic Club three times per week. After we worked out this afternoon, I asked him if he would meet me at the Southside Y on Mercy Blvd. two late-afternoons per week, so that I will have more motivation to go during the week.

I have to go watch Amazing Race now with the boys.

Snowstorm of the Century

It has started!

Snow on the way!

The local news is beside itself with excitement about the snow that is already coming down in Georgia and is now headed towards Savannah! They started crowing about it last night and have not stopped since. My flipster is out and ready to roll if it really does happen. NPR said that it's been 14 years since the last snowfall. I have a distinct memory of a tiny "snowfall" that blew in during the '90's. I remember it because Pete was in the backyard as the snowflakes began to fall. He was excited enough to tear around the yard as the flakes swirled through the air. We got Pete in late spring of 1996, so it must have been the following winter, in '96.

It's freezing today, a penetrating damp cold. This is the coldest winter I remember in Savannah. It's usually fairly mild by mid-February.

Yesterday, I learned something from one of the teachers at my school who is, quite frankly, a gossip. But one can learn a lot from workplace gossips! They have their ears to the ground 24/7 and don't hestitate to pass on any news. She hates her job and hates the school and wants to move on, so she asked if I would read her application letters and resume for college jobs she's pursuing. We met after school yesterday, and I gave suggestions on revisions. After that, we fell into a discussion about school politics, and that's when I learned that "they"---the future principal for next year, currently an AP; and the future AP, currently the Curriculum Director---are already "targeting" the teachers whom they want to quit so that they don't have to think of an excuse to fire them. They are doing this by finding something nitpicking that's wrong with their teaching, then inviting them to the office for a verbal attack. One teacher was brought to the office for a verbal assault because she spent the last five minutes of class handing out a homework assignment instead of teaching "bell to bell." My friend also told me about several teachers whom the Administration dislikes, usually women, and that their strategy is to make these teachers miserable and humiliated enough to quit at the end of the year. It was comforting, at least, to know that several teachers besides myself are targeted for dismissal. The teacher who told me this is a SPED support teacher, so she visits teachers' classrooms all day. She said that the adminstration's targeting has nothing to do with quality of teaching. Some teachers who don't do squat are NOT in disfavor with the Administration; others who work their butts off ARE in disfavor, but for no logical reason other than the fact that these two women administrators favor male teachers and dislike female teachers. In addition, they plan to twist the "last-hired" formula for budget cut dismissals so they can remove people they don't like, even if they were not "last-hired." It's all very interesting, isn't it? Ask me if I care.

It's a three-day weekend. Tomorrow, Liberto and I will get our taxes done. I started to do it myself and managed to calculate how much our refund will be, but there are still a few questions we need an expert to handle, so we'll let H & R finish what I started. I also have a hair appointment tomorrow. In addition, we're refinancing the house at a lower interest rate, so we need to get a few more forms in. We've been approved for a nice low 15-year interest rate, pending a little paperwork. On Monday, President's Day, I have my dreaded dentist appointment, the next stage of my implant procedure, in which they will do a CT scan of my whole head, to see if the implants can be done at all. Apparently, they can't tell for sure without a scan. Sounds like we will have a fun-filled weekend of routine but necessary activities.

Now I'm going to stand at the back door and await the snow!

Tuesday

Yesterday, I felt so good. Today, I struggled with feeling disappointed in myself, battling a sadness about the fact I'm just not very good at teaching high school anymore, if I ever was. I'm sure it's all part of the grieving process of re-grouping for a new career and letting go of the familiar. But as soon as I got home, the blueness lifted. I love being at home; it's my sanctuary. The happiest time in my life in recent years was my sabbatical from Georgia Southern.

Derek sent me a link to a cool website about freelancing called "I will teach you to be rich" dot com.

Written humorously, a typical quip is "...everyone else is so horrible [at free-lance writing] that if you can write a half-decent sentence and restrain yourself from including a picture of your penis, you can almost certainly get a freelance gig."

Sounds promising!

Exuberance emerges

It may be irrational, but I feel oddly peaceful, even rejuvenated, as though the weight of the universe has lifted off my shoulders. It's all related to the news that my school will cut two people from each department. I expect to be one of them although it's not official. I found out about the cuts from a friend on Saturday. By Sunday, my fears of financial difficulties were far outweighed by very positive feelings. Call me crazy. Maybe I'll be singing a different tune in six months. But I went to work today feeling a lightness that I haven't felt for ages. I went there wanting to have fun with my students and unconcerned about whether an administrator would pop in for an impromptu evaluation. I let them get in groups and pairs to do a project(something the administration frowns upon because the students make noise while they work together!) and the entire time, my feeling was (smile) whatever! It was incredibly freeing.

Dead horse neighs again

I haven't blogged for awhile because. . . I just feel mute, for some reason. There's a tornado swirling in my mind, but I haven't been able to transform it into words. I worry that expressing myself will only make me sound pathetic because I've said it all before. First, I've had a hard time getting over Pete. It's been about six weeks, but I still half expect him to follow me to the kitchen in the morning when I go in for the morning coffee. It really hurt to lose him. I feel the same about Gus. It's been over a year now, but when I walked outside to view the full moon the other night, I expected to see him sitting elegantly on the porch railing and to greet me with a meow. Part of the sadness is knowing that we won't have any more pets. We haven't yet fixed the carpet in the living room, which has received years of doggy and kitty damage. I know that it wouldn't be fair if we got a new pet and couldn't afford its proper upkeep. I'm probably going to lose my job, and things may be tighter for awhile. Pets are expensive, and if I don't rush blindly into getting a new one, we may be better off when the belt must be tightened.

I've beaten this dead horse before, but it has reared its head again, so let's go ahead and beat it some more: I found out from a friend today that my high school has decided to cut two people from each department for next year, based on a last-hired formula. Okay, who was the last hired in our department? Oh yeah, I was. Plus, the AP doesn't like me because I used something in class that wasn't on the official reading list, and I make a high salary. In addition, they value the teachers who coach, which I don't.

There's no way it won't hurt emotionally when I'm let go, even if part of me wants to go. Yes, part of me very much wants to go; I'm exhausted from the full-time intensity of having to keep kids busy every second, from hearing the back-talk, the whining, the bathroom pranks. The ideal high school teacher conducts a class that is choreographed better than a tightly-timed Broadway show, without ever missing a beat or wasting a second with such nonsense as taking attendance or writing a pass for Jamal to see the Guidance Counselor. One of the older teachers told me that in her day, the teacher stood in front and gave a brief lesson, then sat down while the students worked independently for the rest of the period. She said she isn't sure she could have done it if she had started her career later, when teachers were expected to engage students every second of every period of every day.

It's a bad economy, so finding another gig will not be easy. Fear of prolonged unemployment is another reason why I feel nervous about the future. Though Liberto says he knows it isn't my fault, I know him well enough to know how pissed he is at the prospect of losing my income. He has a way of tightening his mouth that speaks worlds to me, even if the words he projects say the opposite. Today, he said somewhat scoldingly that I should have applied for a job with the County that was posted on the night we looked together, in December, when I told him I might be laid off. However, since I'm under contract until May, it felt premature to start looking in December. But maybe I should have. There's another interesting job I recently saw posted at SCAD. But I've hestitated. If, on the very small chance that I could ever land another position now, wouldn't I be bringing a nightmare for myself by breaking a contract in the middle of the year?

Continuing the beating of a dead horse: What if I had no or little income and Liberto was the main breadwinner? That would make me. . . dependent on him. What would I do if he left me for his secretary? I've never not had my own income. It's a little frightening to contemplate having no economic power. Liberto is not a reader, so he doesn't understand my need for books. Yes, I could go to the library, but I order them from Amazon because I can get the newest right away, rather than wait six months to get new releases. My hunger for books is analogous to his hunger for seafood or chocolate. And his mouth tightens when a box from Amazon arrives, as it did today.

I recently spoke via Facebook with a friend who left my previous high school to teach at Savannah State, and he reported that they are having enormous cut backs, to the point that he can hardly pull together a living, and plans to relocate to Florida. I wonder how many part-time courses I'd have to teach at the area colleges to bring in enough for food?

In sum, the reason I haven't blogged for so long is that grief over a lost pet and the chaotic feelings of uncertainty about the future have crowded out the pleasures, such as the book I'm reading (All the Pretty Horses, Cormac McCarthy), and the American Idol auditions I've been watching with Paul. Liberto and I saw Young Victoria a few weeks ago, and enjoyed it. I dragged him kicking and screaming to see The Lovely Bones, which I wanted to see because I had read the book.

I hope that I can conjure the energy and optimism to make my next chapter fulfilling and fruitful. Maybe my job loss will turn out to be a gift, rather than a blow.