On Not Posting In Awhile

Geez! It's been awhile since I've posted, eh? One would assume, with the lack of posting that I've been doing, that I'm a busy little beaver (like the Canadian connotation there? I do)! Well, you'd be dead on! I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the past little while. Mostly, I've been attending meeting after meeting after meeting, much to my discomfort (and physical pain, in some instances). In case you were wondering, the physical pain mostly came from wearing heels for a twelve hour day...but you could also factor in uncomfortable seating at uncomfortable meetings as well.

Anyways, I could bore you by going into detail about what I've been up to the past week and a bit, but I will spare you. I will give you a brief update, and then continue with today's issues (and yes, there are issues to discuss...it's been a rough week, and it's only Tuesday).

So....let me think back. Last week was the Open Evening. Basically, the school competes with a bunch of other secondary schools in the county/area, to get parents to send their children there. Competition is apparently pretty stiff, so they really try hard to impress. Interested parents of children currently in year 6 come out for the evening, get schmoozed by the Head Teacher, wander the building with preppy student guides, and watch entertaining presentations put on by the staff. Myself, I got tricked into helping run a giant game of scrabble. It was....interesting, to say the least. Just building the damn thing proved to be a challenge and a half. The string we were given to "map it out" was bloody awful, and the tape in which to stick it down was worse. It just would not stay. Rachel and I kept having to slap it down, as hard as we could, and it almost always bounded back. Eventually, we went to the Science department to get more string, and were magically given a much BETTER, and more co-operative, bundle of string. We ripped out the shit we had laying, and re-did the board with our new magically co-operative string. Then we went about setting out the board pieces, and arranging the letter tiles into piles of seven.

After we had the board set up, we had some time to kill. I wandered into the Orwell Office, and found a bunch of women cutting and pasting book photos and blurbs onto coloured paper. A new display was being constructed, and they asked for my help. I glady did so. I am rather glad I did, because it turned out to be quite funny! Ann, the second head of English, proved herself to be a very funny lady! She had us rolling on the floor laughing. Literally. Putting up the display proved to be a continuation of the good time. Before we knew it, however, it was time to get down to business.

Showtime (and I aptly call it that) approached, and I settled into "Game show host" mood. As children and their parents entered the room, I bombarded them with words of encouragement, trying to entice them into playing the game. A few refused, shyly hiding behind their parents, but most were quite eager to play. In fact, I quickly found that the parents were highly competitive, wanting their kids to get the best score etc. It was a bit daunting, to be honest! I felt bad for a few of the kids, whose parents really pushed them to find "better" words, or to exploit the letters they had. A bit weird to see, that's for sure.

No major problems arose. I met a few of my students parents, as they came in with their younger siblings. It was nice to put faces to names. I had a feeling some of them were rather shocked at my appearance though; I'm not sure if it's my age, or my nose ring, or what, but a few seemed a bit surprised to realize I was "the Miss Carson". "The" indeed. Legendary.

Anyways, the night went off alright. We didn't leave the building until around 9 though, which was a tad horrifying, considering I am there at ten to 8 every day. Ugh. Long long day. Rachel and I ended up joining the Geography boys (who are an hilarious and jovial bunch) for a pint in Fenstanton before going to bed. I slept well that night.

Not a whole lot worth writing about happened between then and now. Aside from the weekend, which started off slow (I went to bed early Friday night), and then ended up being probably the best weekend I've had here so far! I just had a wicked fun time, going out, seeing people, having some drinks, and sharing more than a few laughs. J ended up coming back to mine with me, and we had a pretty fun time together. In the morning, we went out for breakfast, and I waited with him for his bus to come. He was quite cute, and awkwardly affectionate (not awkward in a bad way, but awkward as in I could TELL he wanted to be MORE affectionate with me, but he was afraid of scaring me off - he would go to take my hand, then kind of hesitate and pull his hand back etc - it was quite cute). We also made plans to head to Paris together after half term. We're going to get together NEXT Wednesday, at his place after school, to plan it all out for a weekend in November. He said he'd even make me dinner, that night! How adorable is THAT?!

Coming off that weekend, I was really hoping to have a good week. In fact, I kept thinking this week was going to be GREAT, because I have a nice break in the middle (a trip to Birmingham with the Science department on Wednesday). However, it's now only Tuesday, and I already want to shoot myself in the head.

You see, last week the year 9 reports went home. As you should be aware, my year 9 class is a total terror. They constantly push me, and make me question my desire, if not my ABILITY, to teach. In an effort to "shock" them into realizing I mean business, I wasn't exactly nice when I assessed them. In fact, I was tough as nails. I gave a lot of people really crap marks. In my defence, they totally deserved them. Their attitude towards learning (ATL) was total rubbish, and they're kidding themselves if they think otherwise. So I was brutally honest in my reporting, and I think the marks were indeed "shocking" to a number of students.

Yesterday, Leslie came to me at the end of the day, to let me know that three of my year 9 girls had come to see her about the grades I'd given then. I instantly knew exactly who the girls were. When I listed the names to Leslie, she nodded.
"I'm not going to apologize for the grades," I said. "They deserved them."
"I'm not asking you to apologize. I have no doubts they deserved them. I just wanted you to be aware that there is some discontent out there," she said. She smiled at me constantly, so I could tell she was trying not to seem threatening. It was clear she didn't want to scare me, or make me feel that I had been at fault.
We had a rather frank talk about what the problem was. She told me these girls had requested a class change. My heart sunk.
"Here we go," I thought, "My teaching ability is suddenly thrown into question because three stuck up girls are pissed I called them on their own laziness and stupidity".
However, Leslie tried to explain to me that my teaching wasn't being questioned, and that she understood I had a tough "group of characters".
We decided to allow someone to come observe the class in action, this Thursday, to try and figure out strategies. We also are going to work on picking ONE person, one truly disruptive person, to move out of the class. I can think of a few I wouldn't mind giving the ol' heave ho - but that'd be a cheap solution. One I can deal with. I have an idea of who I want switched out, but that too might be TOO easy. We'll leave it up to the moderator.
With that in the process of being resolved, I rested easy Monday night.

Today, I had my year 9s first period. As the students started their slow shuffle into the room, there were murmurs of discontent. This was the first period that I'd had with them, since the reports went home.
"Miss, why did I get a lever 3?" I heard.
Not looking up to acknowledge the speaker, I said, "If you want to discuss grades with me, see me after class."
"Miss, why did I get a level TWO?!" I heard a high pitched, and extremely whiny girl ask.
I turned, looked over her head at the clock, and said, "Come see me after class, to discuss your mark."
She huffed at me, and refused to move.
"No. I don't deserve this mark. My mum is going to go bananas when she sees this..." she started.
"Sit down. This is not the appropriate place to discuss this," I said calmly to her.
She scowled at me, then marked to her seat. The entire way there she was bitching and complain about how she'd been given an "unfair" mark.
I rolled my eyes.
Instantly, comments started being hurled around the room.
"Yah, well I got a 3."
"HE got a 3?!? THATS NOT FAIR!"
"Oh yah, well I got a two as well. I've NEVER got a two before...."
I could feel myself losing them, so I shouted at them to do the Word Challenge on the board, and to stop talking about grades.
"If you want to talk about grades, do so individually after class with me," I said.
I was met with grumbles. The hatred for me was very evident, throughout the entire classroom.
Bubbles of discontent quickly surfaced again, and before I could stop it, I was being bombarded with comments about how "unfair" I was, and how "we haven't done anything to warrant these marks".
The worst, however, was when one of the girls smugly shouted, "Yah, well I'M SWITCHING ENGLISH CLASSES!"
The rest of the class turned to look at her. She smiled, smug at having won the entire class over for the moment.
Eruptions of agreement spilled forth.
Devastated at the mob mentality that was being directed at me, I felt myself wilt a little. I must admit, I started to doubt my abilities to teach very much. With 28 eyes turned to me, watching for my next move, I knew that now was not the time to collapse.
Instead, I threw my shoulders back and calmly said, "No one will be switching classes. You can't run away from your problems that easily. If you got a bad mark, it's the mark you deserved to get. I don't give good or bad marks. You earn them."
This shut them up for a moment, as they pondered the meaning of what I'd said.
A few rumbles started up at the back, but with a cold stare, I quickly quieted those.
I prompted them back to the Word Challenge, and tried to carry on with the lesson.

We headed to the PC lab for the majority of the class, and kids seemed to be working fairly well.
There was still some animosity amongst some of the girls, but I tried to brush it off with a firm but fair touch. I felt the end of the period went relatively well, and I tried very hard not to let their stinging criticism of my teaching at the start of the lesson get to me. However, at the end, I was given a rather sound slap on the face, by one of the quieter girls in my class.

All the other students had left the room in a noisy mass of swirling chaos. This last girl was slowly and deliberately putting her books into her bag. As she walked past me on her way to the door, she half turned and said, "I'm going to get out of this class."
"Excuse me? Why?" I asked, genuinely shocked.
"Because I can't work with the people in this class. We never get anything done," she said coldly.
"Yes we do," I said. "And besides, if anyone moves, it won't be you...."
"We'll see about that," she said, haughtily, as she strolled out the door.

I stared looking after her for a good thirty seconds. Maybe it was a culmination of everyone else's badgering, or maybe it was something else...whatever it was, her comments to me, seemingly out of the blue (I'd given her a decent mark), struck me harder than anyone elses.

I could understand the "bad" ones wanting out. Students like that will never take responsibility for their actions. They will always blame someone else for their shortcomings. The easiest person to blame right now is me, and so they are. I can deal wit that. I can brush that off. But to have one of the "good" ones slam me....well that was something else entirely. It really made me question my own abilities. Can I handle this class? Is it THAT bad?! Some days I think it is, and others I don't. I do take responsibility for some of the things that happen (or fail to happen) in my class...but I refuse to take responsibility for everything. If you get a bad mix of kids, it's really hard to get them to perform the way you want them to. At least, it is when you are as green a teacher as me. I will always admit to my shortcomings, and my "newbness" is a very large one. I often have no idea what I am doing, and find that usually my instincts are right. However, with this class, I feel like it's hit and miss. They don't trust me. They don't respect me. They plain don't like me. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, get them to be the class I KNOW they can be. It's very frustrating.

I can only hope that the monitoring I get on Thursday will help me figure out what to do. I'd hate to think that I'm failing at teaching....but right now, it sometimes feels that way (at least with this ONE class).

That said, it IS only one of my six classes. I don't think I am doing bad with my other classes at all. It is just my 9s that are totally out of control, and I have no idea how to rein them in. But I'm willing and able to learn.

But anyways...I really don't want to bitch and moan all the time in here. That was never my intention.

Tomorrow I am going with the year 9s (the entire year) to Birmingham, to what is called the "Think Tank". It's some sort of science museum, or something, if I understand all the e-mails right. I am mighty excited to be able to visit a new part of England "on the company dime".

More to come on that later though. Counting down the days till the weekend!! (Which should, if all predictions come true, be even better than the last). The staff Curry Club (which is really just an excuse to eat and drink together) has their first meeting of the year on Friday. J's already asked me to come stay at his after the Curry Club, so a slumber party is already in effect. Saturday night one of the Geo boys, Tom, has his birthday party in Fenstanton, which is only about 5 mins outside St. Ives. I know J is going, and I'm 100% certain he will be coming back and crashing at mine. It's only logical. :) It's going to be RIGHT FUN!

Cheers!

On Confusing Myself More Than Anything

So in my "PG" blog I wrote the following today:

I was "this" close to spilling a major can of beans in here tonight. However, I wised up, and realized it's best for me to take the high road, and let people move on with their lives. I've been grasping at straws for awhile now (or at least, it sometimes feels that way), and I've started to think that maybe it's about time I stopped. It won't be easy, if I decide to do it, but I think maybe it's the right thing to do. Then again, I don't know. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole thing. You know how sometimes people say you just "know" about certain things? How some things happen easily for a reason? It all falls into place? Part of me wants to just trust that feeling, and keep doing what I was doing. Another part of me thinks it's a bit futile, and insanely naive, and it's expecting a LOT. Not just from myself, but from other people too. Then again, I know what I'm willing to do...and it doesn't bother me. I can't really know what other people are thinking though...and there lies the rub. Maybe if I wasn't such a pussy, I could be more vocal about this. But again, I've never been one to verbalize when I need help. I'm a stubborn old soul, who refuses to let people see the weaker side of me. I've got a persona to uphold, after all! (Actually, who am I kidding? Everyone knows me as the soft, sweet, big mouthed girl from Tillsonburg...no bad ass persona here). Do you fight the feeling, or do you let yourself be caught up in it? I don't think there's an answer for that question. It's like asking what came first; the chicken or the egg. Or whatever else people say. Bah. THIS IS SO HARD! I know what I want, and I know what it takes to get it, but it takes a lot; A lot of different things, from different avenues of my being. Nothing I can't afford though...now, then, before, whenever. I know I'm talking in circles here, and being ridiculously vague. Obviously I'm doing that for a reason. I don't really want people to (mis)interpret my meaning. Or at least, certain people. Or persons. Or person. Whatever. Decipher what you will from that.

It doesn't really matter what I decide here, or anywhere else. I can say all I want that I'll try to quit this thing, but it won't happen. It's like that Rihanna song....I'd have to check into rehab for it, and it just wouldn't work. I'm irrevocably hooked, no matter how hard I try to disengage myself.

Oh, and case you were starting to get worried. It's not drugs. Unless you count alcohol, in which case, yes, it's drugs. (I'm joking).

-------

In this blog, I can run through the hidden meaning in the posting. I was trying to be evasive, because I wanted to vent, but I didn't want everyone to know what I was talking about. Obviously I could have just vented here, without venting even a little in the PG blog...however, I know a lot of people read the other blog, and I think they'd like to see a more personal post from me; something that wasn't just about teaching. So I posted it.

But here, I can be real. Obviously I'm talking about my feelings for Trevor. My sister messaged me today, and made me feel really shitty about what I'm doing to myself over Trevor. She basically pointed out that I was being completely naieve about the whole situation.
"You have to remember he's four years younger than you. He might not want what you want," she wrote.
I didn't want to believe her a the time, but as I thought more about it, it started ot kind of become true. Obviously when I go back home, my plan at the moment is to fight tooth and nail to get him. To make him mine, to be with him. I want to be with him so badly, it's ridiculous. I think about him on a daily basis. He's the last person I talk to before I go to bed, most nights. I have surprisingly strong feelings for him. I say surprising, because I haven't seen him in over a month now, and I still feel as strongly as I did the last day I spent with him. Talking to him, daily, only makes me feel more sure about my feelings. He just constantly reinforces how amazing he is, every time I talk to him. He's something else...I dunno. I can't stop thinking about how I felt when I first saw him, or when I first kissed him, or when we ... god, sorry, I hate to be an awkward asshole here ... had sex. It was all just so GOOD. There was passion, and tenderness, and everything you'd want. I dunno. Frig. It was all so good. And it all happened so fast...but it felt really natural, and right. More than anything I've experienced before.

Christine told me she thinks he wants to be with me when I return. Sheena tells me he probably won't. I'm telling myself I want it, and if I want it, I seem to think I will get it. I don't know who or what to really believe. I want SO badly for my feelings to be right, for once. I want so badly to give in, and trust my gut on this one. But I also am now afraid I'm wasting my time, my life, my love. I just don't know what to do.

In all honesty, I'm not worried about him being with other girls when I'm gone. I know I will be with other GUYS in this interlude. I'm not going to become a NUN while wait until I return home. Hell, I've already for J waiting in the wings, and he is MORE than ready to sweep me off my feet, for the time being. And I'm more than willing to let him. He's a very sweet guy. As such, I'm sure Trevor will find his "J". His girl to distract him. I just hope he doesn't find his "right girl". What I hope will be me. And maybe that's where I am being naieve. I don't even know how Trevor feels about me. I don't seem to care. I have this insane confidence about the whole situation....and perhaps that's stupid. Maybe he's not the nice guy I think he is. Maybe he is very good at playing me. Who knows. I don't think that's the case, though.

And, like I said in my PG blog, no matter how hard I try to convince myself into quitting him, reducing my conversations with him, it won't happen. I can't do it. I can't not talk to him. I look forward to it, nightly. It's hard enough for me to go one night, and purposely NOT talk to him (which I do, often, to try to show myself I'm not as hopelessly in love with him as I think I am).

But anyways, I'm rambled on long enough. I should either do some work or go to bed.

Cheers.

On the Worst Day EVER

The following was originally written October 1st:

So today was quite possibly the worst day of my entire life. I don't feel like rehashing the details right now, because it will just make me upset, but I will anyways. Long story short, I ended up being very very stern with my lower ability year 11s today, for constantly "taking the mick out of me". In other words, they've been pushing my buttons for five weeks now, and I've had enough. I've been trying SO hard with this group, and getting mediocre results back. I even changed the seating plan of my room, which affects EVERY OTHER class I have, in order to better accommodate these kids. I have a large central table, that I have the 16 students sit around. I then work with them on THEIR level, talking them through tasks, and getting them to do it as a group. If I left them to do the tasks individually, only a few of the slightly higher ability ones would complete it. The others would need constant supervision. This way, I can supervise them all, and get the work done. Well....today, I had a group of girls refuse to join the table. They wanted to work on their own. I said that was fine, as long as they stayed on top of the work, and weren't off task.

Well, I quickly noticed that they were not talking about the poetry I had assigned. Far from it. I called them on their behaviour, only to meet rolled eyes and sighs. I told them they should join the main table again, to stay on task, but they refused. Not wanting to ruin the learning the others were doing, I set back to the task at hand.

Again, their talking caught my attention, and again I chastised them. This time they started to argue back, saying that they were trying to listen to me, but the talking of some boys at my table was preventing them from hearing. They said I was being unfair, picking on them for talking, when people at my table were talking too. I told them I wasn't being unfair, and if they wanted to hear what I was saying, they should join the table.

They then launched into a tirade about how I was "alienating" them from the lesson, by not including them. I calmly stated back that they had CHOSEN to sit separately from the majority of the class, and that I had ENTRUSTED them to stay on task as a result.

"Maybe it's best if you move over here," I said.
"NO!" they shouted back at me. "We're fine here, just make everyone else stop talking, not just us."
The guys at the main table started to argue back at this point, and soon it was a shouting match between the group at the main table, and these girls off to the side. I tried to interject, but to no avail. They either couldn't hear me over their own shouting, or they chose not to. I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the TA. She looked helplessly at me.

Then I stood up.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I shouted.
"I've had ENOUGH of this! I am NOT going to let this class get out of control ANYMORE! This is absolutely CHAOTIC! There is NO reason for this! I am so sick of you guys constantly talking, arguing, fighting, and NOT DOING THE WORK. I'm TRYING to help you do this! I am TRYING to make sure that you all have a solid grasp over this content! You CANNOT hope to get a passing mark on the coursework, if you constantly talk over me, and shout at each other!"
One of the girls opened her mouth, to say something back at me. Her eyes flashed angrily at me.
"NO! Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say ANYTHING right now. I'm talking, and I'm sick of you all trying to talk over me. This is MY classroom, not yours."
One of the boys at my table snickered. This caused the three girls to the side to snicker as well.
I stared at them, steely eyed.
"I fail to see what is so funny. This is your future. If you want to sabatoge it, that's pretty damn pathetic," I said, the anger dripping heavily from my voice.

The boys at my table stared at me, their mouths hanging open. They'd never seen me angry before. I think they thought I was a bit of a pushover. Part of the problem, I suppose.

The girls, however, were not impressed. They saw my anger as a call to arms. They started to shout back, saying I was "unfairly" picking on them, and that I was alienating them from learning by allowing others to talk, but not them. Again they tried to say that I forced them away from the main group. I rolled my eyes at them, ready to defend myself, but deciding against it.
"I'm not going to argue with you. I don't have to," I said.

At this point, the TA piped in, saying that I had, in fact, invited them repeatedly to join us, but that they'd refused. She said I couldn't drag them to the table. She was right. I couldn't...though next lesson I will.

Again, I had to strongly reiterate the fact that THEY had chosen to exclude THEMSELVES, and that I couldn't be expected to MAKE them want to learn. I took all the blame they were placing on me, and put it squarely on their shoulders, where it rightfully belonged. My voice remained calm and cold, collected to a T. Inside, I was shaking though. Shaking with anger and pent up resentment, not just at the girls in particular,but at everyone in the class. Everyone who was constantly pushing my buttons, seeing how far they could go.

At this point one of the girls, the most vocal one, stood up.
"I WON'T work in here with YOU," she spat at me.
I stared at her, not saying a word. I don't know how I looked, but I felt utterly and totally bad ass; I hope my face projected my own apathy back at her. She stormed out, saying she was going to her House Office.

The TA looked at me, and I sat, unmoving. Every head in the classroom was turned to me, expectantly. I simply sat there, staring at the remaining two girls, daring them to get up and do the same.
"Do you want me to go after her?" she asked.
"Yes please," I said, calmly.
"You can't use this as an excuse to get out of a lesson..." the TA mumbled under her breath as she walked out of the room.
No one watched her go. Everyone remained fixated on me.
I picked up the poem we were working on, and continued on with it. I've never heard my voice sound so hollow and cold before. It was eerie even to me.
The students were quiet, not saying a word. I asked a question. Repeated it. Finally one of the girls at the main table answered, and some sort of normalcy returned.
When the TA returned, she shrugged at me, and went over to talk to the remaining two girls off to the side. I plowed on with my poem.
I didn't notice until the end of class that one of the girls had started to cry, while talking to the TA. When everyone had cleared the room, I approached her, and asked her what had happened.
"I think they weren't used to you pushing back. I think it shocked them. You put them in their place, and ruined their argument, and the only thing they had left to do was cry," she said.
"I don't think I did anything wrong..." I said, rather sheepishly.
"Oh no, you didn't," she said. "In fact, I don't know HOW you managed to stay so calm and collected. I mean, you were angry, that was obvious, but... it wasn't out of control. It was poised..."
"I don't know what to do to make these kids do the work..." I said.
"Honestly, you're doing more than I've seen anyone else do with them. I think the seating arrangement is ingenious. It works. These kids need someone on them, all the time."
She suggested that I re-arrange the boys in the class, to break up their ability to talk. I agreed.
Tomorrow I have the class again, and I'm going to try out the new arrangement. We'll see if it helps. I'm also going to demand that everyone sit at the main tables with me and the TA. We're going to get through this together, or not at all.

Still, once the TA left the room, I felt everything from the period rush back at me. The raw emotion of the girls, the awkwardness from the rest of the class, my own frustration and anger, everything. I sat in my desk, put my head in my hands, and cried for a good 5 minutes. I am so glad no one walked in. I had my door wide open, and it was entirely possible. If anyone had seen me looking like that, I don't know what I would have done. Likely they would have asked what was wrong, and I would have then broken down into a sobbing, sniffling mess. I don't want anyone in the department to see me cry....I am already afraid that they think I'm "green". Crying would only add to the pile of things that are potentially wrong with me.

I wiped my face dry with my scarf, and spent the rest of my free period trying to compose myself enough for the staff meeting that followed after school. It wasn't easy, but I think I managed it.

Regardless, I am still left feeling like shit. I can't concentrate enough tonight to plan, or do anything productive. Luckily for me, Heroes is on in twenty minutes, and I can watch that, veg out, and then go to bed.

My fingers are crossed that tomorrow brings a better day. If it's another bad one, like the last few........well.....lord help me....