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.

Paul's speech for class

Paul had to record a 2-3 minute speech to submit for his Public Speaking class at Central Georgia Tech, where he is now enrolled. The topic was "Tell Me About Yourself." I recorded it on my Flipster, and thought I'd post a copy here, too. Paul is shy and public speaking is definitely not his thing, so I'm proud of him for giving it the ole college try. I rarely post photos or videos of him on this blog because he ducks away from the camera or video when I'm capturing moments.

Liberto returned on Sunday, exhausted, and very saddened by the situation in Venezuela. The economy has tanked. Years ago, it was cheap to buy goods in Venzuela with U.S. currency. I used to buy Retin A over the counter for about $6 a tube. Now, prices have skyrocketed way past dollar rates. Chavez continues to take over business and industry. Liberto's 93-year-old father receives two pensions from two separate careers he had, and that income has sustained them. Now, Chavez is thinking of passing a law that no one can receive more than one pension. Gina lost her job when Chavez' government took over the business she worked for. Zaira's job is in danger because the old dictator might take over the school system where she teaches.

I went to the dental specialist today to do one of the pre-dental-implant procedures, and as he talked on about his Christmas skiing vacation in Aspen and his private plane, I sat there worrying about how I'd pull together the cash to pay for this procedure. It is not covered by either of the two dental insurances I carry. Isn't that insane? On the way home, I told Liberto that the dentist owns a plane, and he responded with good humor, "Well, we own our cars!" (Almost, since we only have two more payments on Liberto's; mine and Paul's are paid for.) "And we drove to Southside Savannah over Christmas break!" he laughed. I joked about whether I'd really want to go to a dentist who drove a beat-up '83 Crown Victoria, etc. In other words, are his outward toys a sign that he is actually good at what he does? Let's hope so.

It was great to have a three day weekend. I slept very well and had interesting, non-student-related dreams. As I was awakening this morning, I was dreaming that I was walking along a beautiful beach with another woman, I'm not sure who. The sand was pure white and glistening, diamond-like. The song from Carousel "When You Walk Through a Storm" was playing loudly in my head. You know the one: "When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high. And don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of a lark. Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain, though your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you'll never walk alone. You'll NEVER walk alone!"

Is there a shrink in the house who can interpret that dream for me?

Getting through the first week

The weather is much too cold. Today, it snowed in Atlanta and in the mountains. The little fountain in our back yard has been covered with a sheet of ice, much thicker than the one in Robert Frost's trough in "Apple Picking." The birds seem puzzled when they land at the edge for a drink of water. Tomorrow, the high is supposed be in the 20's!! I don't do well in cold weather.


Well, so far, school hasn't been too bad, knock on wood. The new 9th graders seem about 10 years older than last semester's 9th graders. The 11th graders seem like, well, 11th graders. I have seven or eight students from my Basic Reading class last semester now in my 9th Grade Comp/Lit. On the first day, one of them hugged me on the way into class and said, "My favorite teacher!" I don't want to jinx anything by saying it out loud, but so far, they have been pretty well-behaved. I've had the first taste in a long time of what it's like to teach without some mentally insane student blurting out, "Why are you teaching this? I don't need to know this!"

The Almighty EOCT results came in, and almost all my students passed, except for a few who are known drug addicts, repeaters, lunatics and demons-who-hate-school. Skylar, for instance, finished the test in five minutes, after doing a Christmas tree scantron, then put his head down for a nice, long nap. And this could be construed as the teacher's fault? Believe me, though, that's how the Administration tends to see it.

I still think I might be non-renewed next year. My portable-mate, the teacher who shares the other side of the portable, recently signed on for supervising after-school cheerleading. She admitted that she'd done it for added job security. Sports are highly valued at the school, and many of the teachers are after-school coaches of some kind. Well, I'm afraid I'm too old, tired, disinterested and ignorant to become a basketball coach at this point. That, plus age, plus the generous salary I receive as a Ph.D., would be perfect motive for them to can me in this time of budget cuts. I've already warned Liberto and he's been supportive. In addition, I may feel ready (i.e., burned out enough) to retire on my own.

Liberto calls every night from Venezuela. It's 80 degrees there, the lucky.

Surprise! No work today!

I went to bed early last night, slept well, and got up refreshed. As I drank coffee and surfed the internet, which I always do in addition to reading the newspaper, I noticed that a facebook friend who works at my school said she was happy not to be going to work today because of the furlough day. I knew there were going to be some furlough days this semester, but it wasn't well publicized as to which dates they were. I double checked my school's homepage, and the calendar there said nothing about today being a furlough day, but the Bryan County website calendar explicitly confirmed that the school was closed today. So I got a surprise day off! It was only a teacher planning day anyway. Thus, all the "furloughed" teachers stayed home and worked all day getting syllabi and papers ready. I got a lot done.

Yesterday, all the household technology was refusing to function, which put a damper on my productivity. My big printer, Printer Number 1, has a problem with the printheads and though I changed cartridges and poked and prodded at the printheads, it refused to print. The second printer, which should have worked, would not connect with any of our computers. Today, however, I borrowed Shawn's new printer, and discovered that I could print wirelessly but only from Liberto's laptop. I was able to get one copy each of dozens of different handouts for the first day of class, which I can duplicate on the school printer.

I went out for an errand this morning, and my car thermometer read 27 degrees! The rosy fingers of Dawn were caked with ice across the freezing sky. It's supposed to be frigid all week, and there has even been talk about snow flurries at the end of the week. It hasn't snowed around here for a dozen years, in my memory.

Tomorrow, I have to work. It's another teacher planning day. Classes begin Wednesday. Unless they change my schedule at the last minute, I have one 11th grade class, so I'm looking forward to discussing a different set of literary works. I'm also hoping that most 11th graders have outgrown the Middle School behavior that 9th graders retain.

Dark and cold

The sky was jet black this morning as I hobbled out to get the newspaper at 5:15. Shawn's flight to Virginia was at 6:40 a.m., so we planned to leave for the airport at 5:30. As I walked toward the newspaper on the lawn, the full moon in the dark sky created some special effects; there were two shadows of me moving across the lawn behind me, which made me jump in fear.

It was so cold and dark that I began to feel depressed. Liberto's car was covered with ice, which is a rare occurrence around here. Since I was planning to use his car, I turned on the engine to let it defrost while I drank my coffee and Shawn gathered his things. When we were ready to depart, the ice was still thick across the windshield. We don't even own an ice scraper, so I ran back in the house for a spatula, and proceeded to scrape away at the layer of ice. It was so hard that I couldn't remove it. Shawn began to scrape, and only made a small hole. Since time was running out, I decided we'd take my car instead, which was warm inside the garage. I dropped Shawn at the airport and returned. It was still very dark and still very cold when I returned to the house. I began to get the blues. I hate dark, cold mornings, and tomorrow, I'll have to start getting up in the cold dark to return to work. As I puttered around, debating whether to begin unearthing syllabi and lesson plans, I began to think about Pete and became very depressed. The darkness never helps. I can see why people in the North get S.A.D. Shawn texted me about an hour later that a lady who appreciates U.S. soldiers had just bought him a soda...when he's in uniform, people are extremely kind and will walk up and say "God bless you for your service."

At nine, I turned on Meet the Press, which I love, and tried to doze as I listened to the discussion about terrorism and our war on terror now probably expanding into Yemen.

I just plain felt out of it, no energy, no sense of purpose. I'm not used to the early alarm yet, and the house felt so chilly. I feel a sense of loss on many fronts. I'd been enjoying the holiday break so very much and now feel sad that it's ending. I fear having to return to, possibly, another Class from Hell at the school. I still feel the loss of Pete, and keep having flashbacks of his smell, his soft forehead where I kissed him goodnight each night, his heavy breathing during his last days. I also miss Liberto, and I know he misses me...he's called twice a day from Caracas. I also miss Derek and Shawn because I don't know when I'll see them again.

I'd also like to develop a new sense of purpose, but I haven't figured out yet what it is. I only think I know what it is NOT (i.e., high school teaching). I've always liked writing, but at the moment, I just don't feel passionate enough about anything to write a book. And I know from experience that in order to complete such a Herculean task, a writer has to be so excited about the topic that she just can't stop herself. Oh well, as they say, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Maybe my inspiration for a new purpose in life (in addition to being a wife, mother, and friend) will appear suddenly when I least expect it!

Boy Toy Turns 50!

Last night, Liberto's birthday party rocked at the Oyster Bar. When we returned home,
he did the last-minute packing and other travel details, such as making photocopies of both U.S. and Venezuelan passports and credit cards. This morning, we dropped him at the airport and are now back at the house. Paul just announced that he broke his glasses frame, so we may be making a trip to Lenscrafters today.